


Midsummer

by Oldine



Series: Birches Grow [1]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: Developing Relationship, Drama, F/M, Family, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-25 07:58:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 26,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9810335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oldine/pseuds/Oldine
Summary: First in a series of novels and short stories post Miracle Day. It's about friends, family, loved ones and the lines people will cross to protect them. Faced with fighting a futile battle amidst corporations and aliens, future Torchwood sets a plan in motion to win through prevention. The ends justify the means is an ugly mindset. No matter what their intentions, their past selves are pawns. How does the Torchwood team face an enemy that may include themselves?After ten years, Torchwood Three sends a wrist-strap notification. Jack calls to determine if it's back in service. Ianto answers. Without time to process the shock, Jack, Gwen and Ianto are drawn into the future conflict. Moss-Probert Corporation has experimented on unwilling subjects. One of their success stories freed herself and fellow victims and is determined to destroy the company. Miriam for the first time in her life has the ability to defend herself and those she cares about. John Hart returns sober with uncertain loyalties and knowledge of a conflict they couldn't imagine.Midsummer is the first move in a three dimensional chess game spanning time and parallel universes played by multiple versions of the same person.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The actual Torchwood series is filled with mysterious alien artifacts and insane plots. My stories have similarities. Some questions will be answered. Others will leave readers wondering. Welcome to my AU. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.

_“You have no idea what it felt like, coming back to life and knowing the world was empty...because you'd gone!”  
Jack Harkness  
Torchwood: The Lost Files House of the Dead (13 July 2011)_

**Torchwood Global Orbital Space Station, June 2035, alternative time line**  


Below the view-port, Earth burned, covered in swirling shades of gray and sickly green. Humans destroyed their planet, civilization and race through arrogance and greed. She failed to save them from themselves. The wasteland was her legacy. An alien station was humanity's last safe port.  


Twenty-five year-old Anwen Williams leaned into Keara's embrace. Memories of failures tortured her. Securing the station had be the hardest in a series of nightmarish tasks. A hundred people volunteered to wage war against the aliens on their turf. Twenty-eight claimed victory, including her and Keara.  


After the world changed, so did she. Anwen slid her hands over Keara's. She resisted the relationship with varied excuses: their age difference, her role as leader and the oddity of finding herself attracted to another woman. None of it felt important anymore.  


Footsteps sounded beyond the open doorway. "Uncle Jack is awake." He was the only constant she'd ever known.  


Keara shifted, releasing her; Anwen held on.  


"Jack won't care," Anwen whispered. If some of the stories she'd heard about him over the years were remotely true, his niece having a girlfriend wouldn't raise an eyebrow. Not even a thirty-three year-old one.  


"We found a WWII era supply depot. It should keep you retro." Anwen figured clothing for her uncle was the only thing of value it contained.  


Captain Jack Harkness strode across the room wearing a WWII era clothes. If he had an opinion on their embrace, he kept it to himself. "How many left?" Regeneration seemingly had little effect on him.  


"About five thousand. We started grabbing children mostly as soon as we knew. We have three or four kids per adult. Dr. Sarkisian found anthropology information salvaged from one of the universities. We need ten thousand to start over." Anwen exhaled. "He's looking for options."  


"What happened?"  


"One government detonated another government's biomech lab. The destroyed facility was trying to redirect the Rift and ignited the atmosphere. The bloody fools kept fighting. They ran out of military targets and started hitting bomb shelters. Most of the people we saved were in obscure locations." Anwen sighed. "Keara saw it coming. I spent days ordering raids on orphanages in third world countries. Most were Catholic. So we have uniformed children and nuns." With minimal education and extensive psychological needs. "I let the prisons burn." Which weighed on her.  


Anwen rubbed her hands over Keara's arms. "I don't know how to do this. Earth is a wasteland. Sarkisian is trying to figure out if we can fix Earth. We're scavenging corpses for DNA profiles in case there is any chance of synthetic DNA. It’s a theoretical option." A beat. "The teams I sent for you and Rex thought I'd lost my mind." Vampire rumors had started.  


"Where is Rex?"  


"In secured quarters. I refuse to have an immortal spy with an attitude problem roaming free." And his continual escape attempts were helping troubleshoot security problems.  


"Rex proved himself during the Miracle Day situation."  


"My mum, she could do this. She ordered Rex to commit suicide and shot you to save the world. I couldn't do it. I don't know how I'm doing this."  
"Do you want me to take over?"  


"No. I said I'd lead. I have to..."  


Keara kissed the top of her head. The physical contact was reassuring. Having grown up tethered to Torchwood, she'd had few opportunities to connect. Few friends and fewer lovers.  


"What can I do?"  


"Logistics. Sarkisian will figure something out. We need plans." At least Rex made her smile. He was a conceited arse. Just picturing him trying to puzzle his way out of a cell he had no chance of escaping gave her that. "Give Rex a few more days to test our security. He can help."  


"We could use a psychic."  


"Keara is the only adult we have left. Miriam did a kamikaze during the station raid."  


"She's a tactician. That works."  


"No." Anwen couldn't help but smile at the absurdity of the situation. "I'm not leaving you alone with my girlfriend."  
Keara laughed. Then whispered in her ear. "He doesn't have a chance."

  


An odd happiness settled over Keara Montfert in the months that followed. Her and Anwen grew closer. For the first time in her life, she had hope. They didn’t have much more than the basics. They shared a room more for lack of space on the station than commitment, but it felt real.  


A part of her knew it wouldn’t last. Her psychic ability gave her an increasingly uneasy feeling but provided no details. Not until the unthinkable destroyed the only real happiness she’d ever had. Jack said Anwen's death was an accident in an attempt to ease the pain. But Keara knew a coup went horribly wrong resulting in Anwen’s death. A group of American survivors believed Rex should be in command of the station. They knew of his near-immortality, and heroics during Miracle Day and after, but not Jack's.  


Tears streamed down her face as she gripped a stuff horse. Her only comfort was the mutineers died. Captain Jack Harkness showed a side of himself few knew existed. Retribution was swift and brutal. No one who knew what happened would ever risk his wrath again.  


The door slid open and Luc Sarkisian stepped inside. Like Anwen, he grew up with Torchwood. He was a physics prodigy whose unusual childhood led to an incredible understanding of science and technology, both human and alien. He'd taken control of the space station when others said it wasn't possible. The only hope dwindling humanity had.  


"I am sorry to intrude." The door slid shut behind him. "Ms. Williams had me researching possibilities. I found one."  


Soft spoken, and ridiculously polite, most people underestimated Sarkisian. She'd seen first hand, and with her psychic ability, his combat skills. He could wade through bodies, wipe off the blood, and keep doing what had to be done. One day, he would be Jack's most trusted adviser. She'd seen it. The location was uncertain, but solid.  


Keara swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stood, still gripping the tattered Palomino that had been a present from Anwen's mother at some point.  


"Are you familiar with temporal mechanics?"  


"Time?"  


Sarkisian smiled. "It’s possible to move through time. Somewhat like a boat on the ocean."  


"Jack is a former Time Agent from the future." Keara felt stupid, having no idea where the conversation was going.  


"A device was discovered by the Nigeria Torchwood office before Great Britain turned control of the country over to its people. It's powered by Rift energy and can navigate time."  


"What would that accomplish?" She suddenly understood what her ability had been trying to tell her. The strongest vision involved Sarkisian. Except it wasn’t the man standing in front of her.  


"As Captain Harkness has said repeatedly, the future is ever changing. His arrival in our past altered events. The time line he came from is different from this one. The aliens changed it." A beat. "If they could change it…"  


"We could change it back."  


"Someone with your psychic ability would have the best chance of success."  


"But?"  


"Captain Harkness has genetic differences. Its possible, probable, those differences allow him to handle time travel."  


"It could kill me?"  


"Yes." Sarkisian hesitated. "We have no way of knowing what the physical and mental consequences would be."  


"Are the odds better than a hundred volunteers taking an alien space station?"  


"I don't know."  


It wasn't as if there was another option. She was the last adult psychic and the only powerful pre-cog. It didn't matter what the odds were to change the past or survive the process. Humanity was on the brink of extinction. Then it hit. If she succeeded, she could save Anwen. Gripping a ridiculous stuffed horse, Keara quietly pledged to save the world.


	2. Chapter 2

**Moss-Probert Research Facility; Cardiff, Wales  
** Wednesday, June 19, 2019 **  
**

Miriam Morgans was going to kill them all. 

She manipulated the lock and stepped into the hallway of the Moss-Probert medical research facility. She learned as a child in state care to accept being powerless. Social workers had rules, regulations and their compassion diminished the longer they held the job. Foster parents varied. More often than not they didn't care. It taught her patience and long-term planning. 

The fire alarm blared. Red emergency lights tinted the dim hallway in a bloody red. Anger built over two years of captivity. The corporation recruited her, promising a job and housing. Homeless and desperate, she believed. A betrayal that would cost them. They gave her the ability, for the first time in her life, to rescue herself. 

Nevils emerged from a security room halfway down the hall. A short, chubby man with roaming eyes and bad intentions. Other nights, she avoided him. The sleazy security guard had an unhealthy interest in vulnerable women. She suspected the scientists identified the docile ones. He avoided her. 

"Go back to your room." 

"No." Miriam sensed him, even if she couldn't see him clearly, and focused. Without a mental block, mask, or psychic ability, there was nothing he could do. He gurgled and slumped to the floor, the sounds nearly concealed by the fire alarm. 

The door separating the male and female residential wings opened. Thomas stepped into the door way. A tall man, the lights reflecting off his bio-mechanical exoskeleton. Miriam couldn't help but smile. The only person in her life she could ever count on. 

"Can you handle the doors?" 

Thomas nodded. "I removed the security door on the control room." 

Miriam wasn't sure what to say. She'd known he was strong with the bio-mechanics, but that was unexpected. 

"I can unlock most of the others." He held up a bulky key-chain. 

"Good. Be careful." 

Miriam sensed her next target as she hugged him. "Take cover." 

Ingria Gregson opened the door and peaked down the hall. The older woman worked as a corrections officer until a scandal ended her career. Circumstantial evidence linked the her to three unexplained deaths. The on-line information hadn't been surprising. 

Miriam stepped into a doorway, concealing herself. Gregson cautiously stepped into the hallway closing the door behind her with a hand to minimize the noise. It was a moment before she realized the security door between sections was open. As expected, she reached for her radio. 

"This is Gregson. Primary power is down. Emergency lights are active. The security door is open." Pause. "Nevils is down." 

Miriam took that as he cue. She stepped into the hallway, revealing herself to Gregson. The woman hesitated. There were few people that suspected the experiments worked. Gregson was one of them. Killing the woman took less time than Nevils. She wondered if that meant Gregson was an easier target or if it got easier with subsequent kills. An uneasy thought. She would know soon enough. 

"Are you all right?" The concern increased Thomas' accent. 

"Yeah. Free the others." 

Eighteen bodies later, Miriam entered a lab. For weeks, she reread the information on explosives. An article about terrorists distributing information on-line made her curious. The labs had all the materials for different purposes. A remote detonator was problematic but not impossible. Taking notes was risky. She memorized everything. Finding a laptop had been unexpected good fortune. She quickly found the website with instructions just in case. The devices took longer than she hoped. High school science class hadn't covered explosives. The Bunsen burners were another story. She turned them on before leaving the lab. 

During the dark days of her childhood, Miriam found comfort in books. Not young adult books where kids or teens saved the word, but fantasy stories involving knights and dragons and epic quests. Memories of Lord of the Rings stayed with her into adulthood. Aragorn feared his family legacy and retreated from the path of king. Except Fate had other ideas. The novels came to mind as she walked through the facility. Red lights reflected off broken and crushed equipment and a body impacted in the dented concrete floor. Through the hallways, passed a pummeled fire door and down two flights of stairs. Building debris and splattered blood littered the floors. The humble ranger became an impressive king. 

Miriam didn't see herself as anything as lofty as queen. God and country had nothing to do with her actions. Both abandoned her and Moss-Probert's other victims long ago. She was a freedom fighter, a rebel leader starting a revolution. More likely than not she'd be declared a terrorist before the day's end. The corporation had friends world-wide. 

Moonlight beckoned through the battered front door like hope reaching into the waking nightmare. She followed the tendrils of light onto the front lawn. A green signal came from the tree line indicating all were safe. 

"So it begins." A battle unlike any King Theodin of Rohan waged, she thought. 

Halfway across the lawn, Miriam pressed the button. The explosion rocked the night, sending fire and smoke reaching for the heavens. While Litha had not been intentional, it was fitting. Midsummer had become nothing more than a big party in places that still celebrated it. But some remembered what it really meant. The ancients lit fires to ward off evil spirits. She honored those who walked before her with a bonfire none would soon forgot. 

Thomas stepped onto the drive, his bio-mechanics shimmering in the moonlight. She didn't have to see his face to know his pain. From the condition of some of the bodies, he'd been forced to kill. She didn't enjoy killing, but it wouldn't keep her up at night. Much like the armies of Isengard and Mordor, the researchers were evil. There was no other word for people who could abduct and experiment on other people. 

They were different, her and Thomas. He still had his soul. 

"I forgot the marshmallows, milady." 

For the first time in two years, Miriam laughed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hughes Flats; Cardiff, Wales **  
****

Ten year-old Anwen Williams stepped through the roof access door and closed it quietly behind her. The Rift shimmered overhead, a colorful ribbon of familiar, comforting energy. With the clear sky and bright stars, it made for an impressive view. "Beautiful night." 

Captain Jack Harkness stood near the edge staring off into the darkness. A heroic figure in vintage military clothes and long coat. Her friends talked about actors, musicians and ballers. None could compete. James Bond was a fictional spy. Jack was a real Time Agent. 

"Does your mother know you're here?" 

Anwen laughed. "The alien GPS tag says she always knows." She enjoyed spending time with her eccentric uncle. He was never boring. 

"Is Trefor feeling better?" 

"Yep. Him and dad are taking turns throwing tantrums." 

Jack smiled, the trademark mischievousness visible even in dim light. "What did I do this time?" 

"Have you met dad's friend Cadic?" Anwen figured it would be her luck to explain. Her mum hadn't known about the Meghan situation either. 

"Maybe." Jack hated to admit he didn't know something. 

"Cadic married Meghan a couple years ago. He inherited his father's business and had money." Mum called Meghan a gold-digger when she didn't think Anwen was listening. "Meghan likes London shopping and spends too much. Cadic told her no more shopping. And Meghan found a younger man with a bigger bank account." Anwen paused briefly. "Meghan filed for divorce. Cadic's ranting has dad thinking mom will leave him for you." 

Jack looked at her. "Your dad is overreacting." 

"I know. I think it’s like two male deer on a nature show. With a reality TV twist. Hitting you is pointless and you might try to kiss him." Anwen smiled. "As that would annoy dad more than hitting him." 

Jack laughed, turning back to the night. 

Anwen sat on a large toolbox. She knew some about Torchwood and how he met her mother. The way Jack looked at her mum, at times, really made her wonder. If Cadic was right, mum would have left dad for Jack a long time ago. Or maybe she would have just married Jack in the first place. Which was probably the answer. Dad went to work, came home to take care of his family, and drank beers with his friends. Jack was exciting but wouldn't settle down. 

There were so many things she wanted to ask. More importantly she wanted to know where Jack came from. She could sense his difference. Like the Rift, he was a puzzle. She learned early not to ask those questions. Her dad worried. Her mum lied. Jack evaded questions with jokes. But there were things she needed to know. 

"Jack." Anwen didn't know how to put it into words. "Something happened tonight. It felt like a change in Rift energy, but wasn't." 

"Did you tell your mother?" Jack's response to everything. She figured it was his way of not stepping on her parents' toes. 

"No. She doesn't want to believe me. It scares her." 

Jack thought before he answered. "Do you have a comparison?" 

"You. Something about you is different. And not the quickly healing injuries. You have energy like the Rift, but it’s not the same. You're not from here. Whatever happened isn't from here either." 

"What did it feel like?" 

"Change. Like someone editing a story. Except I think it’s time." 

An uneasiness settled over Jack long before returning to his fourth floor flat. Hours earlier his wrist-strap made unusual sounds. When he checked it, there was no explanation, suggesting it identified something he hadn't experienced previously. 

Anwen's comments and concerns confirmed what he already suspected. She could sense chronons and had an innate connection to time. Being born close to the Rift could explain it. Beings adapted to their environment. What concerned him was the potential consequences. It would make her very useful to Torchwood in the future. Something Gwen didn't want for her children. 

The flat was quiet and lonely. He thought of Ianto as he poured himself a mug of coffee while reading an event notification from Cory Lynch. Ten years passed since the 456 aliens killed Ianto. Cory with his perfect suits and organizing always brought back memories of Ianto and guilt. He took Ianto for granted. His arrogance got him killed. 

Cory asked to see his flat more then once. He told himself there were security reasons behind his excuses. But he hadn't wanted his friend and brief lover to see it. Gwen described the barely furnished two bedrooms as cold and heartless; he argued the description, but agreed. 

With the mug and a drying roll, he headed for his office and the only furniture he had. The aging military desk had been a gift from a friend's adult granddaughter after his death. Gwen insisted on a good office chair. Which he appreciated as he sipped coffee and tried to decide the best way to escape the memories. 

His mobile disrupted his thoughts with a text message. We have a problem. Gwen's messages were always short and simple. 

Jack suspected it involved Anwen's concerns and headed down to the Williams' third floor flat. Anwen opened the door before he could knock and stepped back to let him enter. He remembered what she said about him being different and wondered if she could sense him. 

"What happened?" Jack asked. 

Anwen closed the door. "Trefor had another bad dream. While I was untangling his blankets, my left arm vibrated." She held up her arm, drawing his attention to a black, watch-like band around her left wrist. 

"We can't remove it." Gwen stepped into the main room. 

Jack flipped open his wrist strap and scanned Anwen. "The band is a wrist-strap similar to mine." There was something familiar about it. "I can only guess it will get bigger. It’s DNA encoded and has a chronon signature." 

"How do we remove it?" Gwen asked, shifting Trefor on her hip. 

Jack looked at Gwen. "We don't."


	4. Chapter 4

**Torchwood Three; Cardiff, Wales**

Ianto Jones woke disoriented with an odd sense of vertigo. As his thoughts cleared, he recognized the familiar bedroll. After a moment of trying to figure out why he took a nap fully clothed, he remembered what happened to the hub. A bomb destroyed the hub with Jack inside. 

Panic was threatening to take over as he pushed himself up. Jack’s office looked exactly as he remembered. His original coat was even hanging on the rack in the corner. After a few deep breaths, Ianto stood. A wave of dizziness added to the fear. He patted his pockets searching for his mobile, and found his wallet but no keys or phone. The last thing he remembered was the warehouse and planning what to do against the 456 and its demand for children. He’d been afraid of dying, and suggested sex. It hadn’t happened, but he wasn’t sure what had. 

A laptop on Jack’s desk caught his attention. It was out of place. Ianto switched it on. The first oddity he noticed was the year. It should have read 2009 instead of 2019. Dread mixed with the fear as he accessed the Internet and researched the 456 situation. Ten years passed. There was no listing of the dead. He checked properties he’d acquired for Torchwood and the deeds had been transferred to Jack’s aliases. A property search for Jack found a building given to him by the city of Cardiff. Flats that once belonged to Rhianna Hughes. Details were slim, but he resolved an alien situation, making the property safe but unsellable. Utility records showed two occupied apartments on different floors. A pang of jealousy added to everything else. Jack made a home with Gwen. She was still married to Rhys and obviously living with him. Yet, it hurt. 

Ianto chided himself, realizing what he should have checked instead. Birth records. Gwen had been pregnant the last time he saw her. The results made him smile. Gwen had two children: Anwen age ten and Trefor age two. The boy’s middle name had him staring at the screen. Why had Gwen named her son Gray after Jack’s brother? Gray was responsible for what John Hart did to Cardiff. He fatally shot Toshiko. He switched off the tablet as the insanity overwhelmed him. 

An unfamiliar computer chime sounded. “Hi, Ianto.” The voice was soft and unfamiliar. “I heard so many stories about Ianto Jones over the years. The man with the impossible tasks of managing Torchwood Three without a support staff, and keeping Jack Harkness out of trouble. Neither would I wish on anyone.” She paused. “You have the unfortunate distinction of having survived the destruction of two Torchwood facilities. In London, you lost the woman you loved. In Cardiff, you had to track Jack down and free him from a block of concrete.” A beat. “People often underestimate the quiet heroes. The ones who face insane odds with the wrong skill-set.” A beat. “Jack loved you. He didn’t realize it until it was too late. He watched you die. You unfortunately know what that feels like. He honored you by seeing to your sister and her family.” A beat. “Jack will be at the hub soon. This message was automated with both of your anticipated actions taken into consideration. He needs you. Please forgive him.”

  
**Hughes Flats**  


Jack Harkness stood in the Williams’ kitchen drinking a cup of coffee and watching the sun rise over Cardiff. Manipulating time was possible with the right technology but ill-advised. While there were any number of reasons a person might risk the consequences, he couldn’t think of one involving Anwen.

More than anything he missed his team. Tosh often understood science and technology better than he did. Owen was great at solving puzzles. And Ianto would always listen whether he understood or not. Gwen’s family needed her more than he did. Something he had a hard time facing. She would be there if Torchwood needed her.

Small, quiet footsteps approached the kitchen. “The wrist-strap is malfunctioning.” A full-sized vortex manipulator was open, dwarfing her hand. “I’m receiving Torchwood notifications instead of you.” She held up her wrist and spoke to it. “Repeat notification.”

“Torchwood Three system malfunction. Command authorization needed for diagnostic.” It sounded like the hub. Except Torchwood Three hadn’t been programmed to send notifications before it was destroyed. 

“I asked why someone would give me a wrist-strap, Uncle Jack. The only answer I can come up with is I gave it to myself.” 

Jack unfortunately agreed. He quickly found his mobile and dialed the relay number to his office. He still remembered it, and wanted to see if the number was in service. 

After three rings, a familiar voice answered the phone. “Hello.” 

“Ianto.” 

“The hub…” Ianto sounded tired. The kind of tired one got when they’d seen too much. “I don’t know how I got here.” 

“I will be there soon.”

  
**Torchwood Three; Cardiff, Wales**

Jack stood outside the tourist office door on Butetown pier. It looked exactly the same. He couldn't remember what had been built after the destruction of Torchwood. Using his wrist-strap, he scanned the building. The hub was back with obvious changes and without evidence of temporal displacement. 

"Bilis Manger?" Gwen stood next to him. 

"No." The situation was much different than Manger's manipulations. Closing the Rift reversed everything that happened as a result of opening it. These changes were specific to Torchwood and arguably beneficial to them. It suggested someone in future Torchwood changed the past. 

"Is it safe?" 

"From what I can tell." 

Gwen headed for the door. 

Jack hesitated, having no idea what he would say to Ianto. Despite what he'd told others over the years, he had regrets. There were things he could and should have done differently. The memory of watching Ianto die still haunted him. 

After a moment, he followed Gwen into the tourist office and down the familiar hall. The large door slid aside revealing the hub. It felt empty, but felt the same. No shy smiles from Tosh. No sarcastic comments from Owen. Or the others that had their jobs before them. 

Ianto stood outside his office near the railing, watching them with haunted eyes. He wore the same clothes as he had the day he died. Jack hurried up the stairs, and hugged him. Ianto held on tightly, setting his head against Jack's shoulder. "I missed you." 

"I love you." 

The only time Jack voiced his feeling aloud had been to Ianto's ghost in the House of the Dead. Jack leaned back, meeting Ianto's gaze. "I love you." The feelings had changed over time, but they were still there. 

Jack kissed him until the years and the pain faded. They stood, wrapped in each others arms, foreheads pressed together. 

"I died." 

"Yeah." Jack kissed his forehead. 

"How did you…" Ianto hesitated. "Bring me back?" 

"I didn't." 

"You just wanted the hub?" 

Jack tipped Ianto's chin up to look him in the eyes. "Someone from the future, probably Torchwood, changed the past." The look in Ianto's eyes worried him. "I want you. Ten years and I still missed you." 

"Why do I feel like this?" 

"I don't know." Jack wondered if it was post traumatic stress. Ianto was worried about dying and their relationship before he died. "What do you remember?" 

"The warehouse. You asked Rhys to run an errand." 

Which fit what he was already thinking. "We will figure it out." He'd seen PTSD numerous times during his military service and working for Torchwood. The only guarantee was that it affected each person differently.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5: Torchwood Three; Cardiff, Wales**

Gwen Cooper claimed one of the workstations. After everything she'd seen working for Torchwood, she'd learned to figure out why and worry about processing the impossible later. Logging into the system worked the same. A quick check of her profile showed her address and other information had been updated. The only oddity was the indication that Anwen worked for Torchwood. She selected Anwen's profile. The format was different, and listed her as the head of Torchwood Global. Checking the office profile indicated it was located in London at the old Institute site. 

Gwen sat back, eying the screen and wondering what she should check next. Finding out her ten year-old was her boss, according to the computer, took a moment. It wasn't the strangest thing she'd seen with Torchwood. She could only imagine whoever made the changes was trying to tell her something. Except she had no idea what. Unsure of what to check next, she opted for Torchwood Three's profile. It was listed as unavailable. 

Gwen's mobile sounded incredibly loud, piercing the silence. "Hello." 

"Hey." Andy Davidson sounded stressed. She could hear a busy scene in the background. "Do you know where the old hospital is?" He described the location. 

"Yeah." 

"It's beyond description, Gwen. The firefighters finally have the fire under control. It's some type of research facility. Firefighters are reporting several bodies with bizarre injuries and strange debris." He lowered his voice. "Possible alien technology." 

"Send me the details." 

When the call ended, she looked up at Jack and Ianto. She hated to interrupt. "Andy called." She repeated what he'd said. 

Jack hesitated. She couldn't blame him. 

"I can handle it." 

Ianto disagreed, "You have to go." 

"All right." Jack took Ianto's hand. "You're staying in the car."

  
**Moss-Probert Pharmaceutical Research**

Driving the Torchwood van felt unreal. Jack Harkness kept his hand on Ianto's leg half expecting him to disappear. Gwen rode in the back helping with research as she had in the beginning. 

"What do we know?" 

"The old hospital was purchased by Moss-Probert, a pharmaceutical research company, three years ago," Gwen replied. "Their website claims they study plants. One conspiracy site accuses them of human experimentation." She tapped the screen. "There have been an increase in missing persons according to police statistics across Great Britain since the facility opened. The Rift grabs random people. The majority of the missing are in need of medical attention and/or homeless." 

"Coordinate with the police." Jack parked near the police cars. "Andy is motioning to us." 

Gwen climbed out. 

Jack kissed Ianto. There was so much he needed to say. "Are you up for helping?" 

Ianto looked pale and anxious, but nodded. 

"Take pictures for facial rec and plates." Jack handed him a mobile. 

"I can do that." Ianto hesitated. 

"What?" 

Ianto shook his head and reached for the door handle. "It can wait." 

"Tell me." 

"Are you with someone?" 

"No. We'll discuss it tonight." 

Jack felt guilty stepping from the van. Ianto needed him. Resigned, he headed for the suits. Civilians should not have been allowed at a crime scene. Their clothes and cars suggested they were well-paid businessmen and women. Money sometimes meant power which could explain their presence. They were somehow associated with the facility. 

"Captain Jack Harkness," he announced. "Torchwood." 

A pretty man in an expensive suit left the group to meet him. "Tedmond Lake. Moss-Probert." He extended his hand. 

Jack shook it. 

"Torchwood investigates fires?" The man smiled, trying to be charming. 

Jack smiled back. "We have to investigate anything strange." 

"As long as we're not wasting your time." 

"Meeting new people is never a waste." 

Lake removed a business card from his wallet. "Call me if you have any questions." His hand lingered briefly. 

"I will." 

The guilt was unexpected. Flirting with a sleazy businessman was harmless. Lake's attempt to flirt near where his company's people died spoke volumes about him.  


Ianto Jones stepped out of the van wondering if he could handle the simple task he agreed to. After a deep breath, he chided himself. He could take photographs: cars, people, and anything with a logo. 

"Are you with Torchwood?" The woman startled him. 

Ianto looked over at her. "Yes." 

"The man flirting with your boss is Tedmond Lake. He's in charge of acquiring alien artifacts and technology." 

Ianto tried to keep from looking. "Who are you?" 

"Miriam. I'm familiar with the facility. The woman in her forties whose dressed like a desperate woman in her twenties is Albreda Starkie. She's an executive secretary. Stilleman Caudell is officially a problem-solver. He's a thug in a suit." 

"How do you know them?" 

"Research. The company made promises and then used me for a lab rat for years." Miriam sighed. "Please don't. I don't want to hurt anyone." Ianto took his hand off the call button. "What do you want?" 

"I want Captain Harkness to take them all down. Terrorism charges would make them disappear into a UNIT facility. He has the contacts. They're well-connected and worth a lot of bribe money." 

They regrouped in the van to compare notes. 

"Andy spoke to a woman named Miriam." Gwen explained. 

"A woman approached while I was taking pictures." Ianto summarized. 

"There is definitely alien technology." Some of the material from the explosion indicated bio-mechanical research. Not something Jack wanted to see again. At least one human modified with cybernetics would explain the damaged doors and the remains described by the firefighters. It felt strange having his team again. "Gwen, we need names and addresses of all Moss-Probert's facilities. I need to contact UNIT about inspecting the other locations." Jack turned to Ianto. "You need to furnish a flat by tonight." 

"Can I stay with you?" 

Gwen chuckled. "Jack has a bedroll, hot plate, and something to hang his shirts on." 

"I need access to a Torchwood account, budget and a list of what furniture you want. If the same businesses are available, it's not a problem," Ianto said. "Will someone be there to accept delivery?" 

"Rhys." 

Jack lightly squeezed Ianto's leg. "You can pick the furniture." 

Ianto nodded. 

"Call Rhys." Jack knew he wouldn't be happy that the hub was back. It would mean Gwen would want to work full-time again. 

Gwen stepped out of the car. 

"Furniture shouldn't be a problem." Ianto checked his watch. "Basic clothing and personal items. I need to shop." 

"Later." 

Ianto looked up from his tablet. "I need to upload the license plates and photographs for facial rec first." He paused. "I need identification. I died." Mentioning it made him nervous. 

Jack quickly checked something on the tablet. "Your driver's license is current. You have a bank account, direct deposit and up-to-date credit history." Jack paused. "There is a unit in your name at Cardiff Self-Storage." 

"Why would anyone do this?" 

"I don't know."


	6. Chapter 6

**Hughes Flats; Cardiff, Wales**

Anwen Williams reorganized her horse figurines on another boring afternoon. She could still picture the horse farm her mom took her to last spring. Beautiful, arrogant creatures. She held her small Arabian and smiled. One day she'd race across the countryside with her hair flying behind her. Her mother arranged a ride around the paddock. They only had English saddles. Western were cooler. Romantic nonsense, but she liked cowboys. 

She watched old movies as her mom and dad thought the newer ones weren't age appropriate. A friend's parents let them watch Cowboys and Aliens. The ridiculous movie made her think of her mother's job. It was like a western. A wily gunfighter standing up against insane odds. Her friends thought she liked Daniel Craig because he was James Bond. She preferred Jake Lonergan. 

Movies, and possible new movies, were forefront on her mind when she sensed him. An energy signature similar to her uncle's. The back door alarm should have sounded but hadn't. He was probably a friend of Jack's. Curious, and bored, she grabbed the alien lock-pick and small weapon she'd taken from her mom's collection. The building was as secure as her uncle could make it. Being able to defend herself was comforting somehow. Or maybe she'd watched too many westerns. She didn't want to be rescued. 

Through the doors, and down the stairs, she wondered what the stranger was doing. If he was checking the security, that wasn't in the basement. If there was a security problem, Jack or mum would have called dad. She hesitated before entering the basement. It occurred to her that he might be an intruder. 

If he was a threat, she justified they needed to know. The basement had dimmer light and smelled funny. She walked down the hall and approached the door. She used one device to unlock the storage door and gripped her weapon. With an outstretched hand, she opened it and stepped back out of view. 

"Who's there?" Anwen hoped she sounded more confident than she felt. 

"The tooth fairy." The man sounded amused. 

Unsure what to say, she went with the first thing that came to mind. "Like in Hellboy 2?" 

He laughed. 

"Why are you here?" 

"Can you sense me?" 

"You're a Time Agent," she decided, "Like Uncle Jack." 

"Captain John Hart. I work for Torchwood." 

"No." She should have called Jack. "You tried to kill my mum." 

"A long time ago, Anwen. I work for Torchwood thirty years from now." 

"The time changes. Why?" 

"To prevent something bad from happening." 

"Why would you care? You threw Uncle Jack off a roof, and blew up half of Cardiff." 

"Yeah. I met a woman who worked for Torchwood. She saved my life." John’s explanation sounded legit. 

"Right." 

"I won't hurt you." 

As crazy as it was, Anwen believed him. She stepped into the doorway. John Hart looked normal. Shorter than Jack with lighter hair, wearing business casual clothes, and an open wrist-strap. It reminded her of the one permanently attached to her wrist. 

"Going to tell someone I'm here?" 

"Depends." She held up her arm. "What does any of this have to do with me?" 

He barely glanced at her. "It’s for future use. You weren't expected to figure it out for years. It’s dangerous right now." 

She hesitated. "You can't stay here. Uncle Jack will find you." 

John turned to her. "You need to be very careful. Don't talk to anyone outside of your family or Jack about any of this. The wrist-strap can save your life. But it can make you a target." 

The really weird part was he sounded sincere. "What do you do for Torchwood?" 

"I'm a mercenary. The head of Torchwood gives the orders. The general pays me." 

She wasn't sure of the situation, but he wasn't telling her something. "What are you doing?" 

"Adding a secondary security system. Check this out." He tapped the open computer panel and her wrist-strap chimed. 

She opened it, and an automated voice said, "Testing building security." 

"How do you have access?" 

"We have remote connections to Torchwood Three. It allows us to communicate with the hub and each other, if needed." 

"Why?" 

"Torchwood situations can be unpredictable." 

  


John Hart listened as her small footsteps retreated. Time travel was nothing new. Meeting a younger version of Anwen was different. The child reminded him of the women he knew: bold, curious, and self-assured. That world was gone, he reminded himself. 

He reviewed the newest additions to the security system. The equipment had been sent back for the building. It would give him access to Jack's security. Anwen's presence made him wonder if he set off an alarm. Which could be problematic. If she reported him, he'd have to approach Jack and explained. A conversion he hoped to delay as long as possible. With the upgrade complete, he headed home. The small dwelling had been part of the arrangement. He needed a place close by. Living in a flat meant neighbors who were more likely to notice oddities. The place was furnished nicer than many places he'd stayed over the years. 

John entered through the kitchen door from the backyard, set his tool box next to the door and checked his security system. No problems. He started the coffee pot before returning his tools to the bedroom. Selecting a mug from the cabinet above the pot reminded him of who coordinated the furnishings. The mug had a Mustang and a bad cowboy joke. The cookie jar next to the coffee pot looked like a pony. He wondered briefly about giving it to the girl. She'd enjoy it. It wouldn't remind him of what he'd lost. But her parents wouldn't understand. Convincing a ten year-old fascinated by Time Agents that he wasn't a threat was one thing. The Williams and Jack were another. John sighed, wondering how he would manage to keep it together when a stupid cookie jar bothered him.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7: Cardiff Self Storage; Cardiff, Wales **  
****

Ianto Jones already recognized the fear and anxiety as a by-product of what happened. Knowing something was irrational didn't mean accepting it. Everything scared him. The anxiety manifested as jealousy. The self-doubt was worse. He questioned his judgment and memories. 

Jack's feelings for Gwen were somewhat mutual and nothing new. She chose Rhys over Jack and they'd been married more than a decade. Even knowing that, their connection bothered him. Trefor's middle name added to the uncertainty. The conflicting ideas were driving him crazy. 

The van stopped in the parking garage adjacent to Torchwood before he realized where they were headed. He reached for the door handle and Jack squeezed his leg. "We're not staying." 

"I need to be home for supper." Gwen climbing out of the van. 

"Understood." 

Ianto waited until the door closed, trying to focus on anything but Jack watching Gwen walk away. "Where are we going?" 

"Cardiff Self Storage. Gwen can research Moss-Probert. The mystery storage unit needs to be resolved." 

"I need to make calls." Making furniture arrangements took time. If he was honest with himself, it was safer. 

"We have time." 

Ianto stared out the window as the silence settled in. Through the chaos, a thought occurred to him. He'd been gone ten years. Before he died, and he still had trouble wrapping his mind around the idea, he knew they viewed what they had differently. Jack was known for casual relationships. He never could handle casual. Between losing Lisa, and the stress of the job, it wasn't surprising that he needed someone. Dating outside Torchwood wasn't a realistic option. Which left Jack. 

"Am I asking too much?" Ianto suspected he already knew the answer. 

"No." 

"I'm sorry." It wasn't a situation anyone should face. 

"We'll figure it out." 

Ianto wasn't sure about that. He couldn't expect to pick up where they left off. Or rather where he wanted them to be. He wouldn't take advantage of Jack’s survivor's guilt. "What's the building like?" 

"Four floors. Four two bedroom flats on each. Mine is on the fourth floor. Gwen and her family are on the third." 

More than enough room. He needed to figure out how to explain changing his mind about living with him before the furniture was ordered or delivered. Explanations were something he was good at. Although the people he gave them to didn't know him. Jack would argue but would be relieved. 

"Anwen would take pictures and send them, if asked." 

"That would help." 

Jack looked at him briefly. "What's wrong?" 

"I'm tired." 

Jack didn't believe him. He parked in the storage facility's main lot. They needed to see what they had before making decisions. He was glad Jack was with him. The anxiety at the hospital scene returned as they left the car. 

Ianto made a point of focusing on his tablet and trailing behind. The more he thought about it, the less he believed he could lie about why he needed his own place. It wasn't a conversation he wanted to have. Jack held the door and they entered one of the buildings, and walked down a long hallway. He stopped to scan the storage room. "Chronons." 

"Time change?" 

"Yeah." Jack used a skeleton key device to open the lock, and slid the door up. The room was filled with boxes and furniture. Each box had an itemized list on the outside. 

"Does Rhys still own a transport business?" 

"Again." 

Ianto checked boxes while Jack stepped away to use his mobile. The labels on the outside fit the contents. 

Jack returned after a phone call. "I need to leave." 

"Did Rhys agree to help?" 

"Yeah. He will be here in half-an-hour or more. With the kids." Jack hesitated. "Rhys is angry again. Its a long story, but he's worried Gwen will leave him for me." Ianto could sympathize. 

Jack hugged Ianto from behind, and kissed the top of his head. "We will figure this out." 

"Gwen told him I'm moving in with you?" If Rhys thought Jack was in a solid relationship, he'd likely worry less. 

"Probably." 

Ianto was getting a better idea of why the Torchwood woman did what she did. She was not only manipulating events, she was manipulating them. He was expected to settle Jack down and resolve the situation with Rhys. Keeping each of them happy meant different things. The question was how she knew them that well. 

"What's wrong?" Jack wasn't going to let it go again. 

Ianto turned to face Jack. "It’s unreal." Ianto lightly brushed Jack's face with the side of his hand. "I knew it wasn't serious for you. Sooner or later you'd be bored." Ianto hesitated. "The survivor's guilt will fade. And we'll be back where we were. Except you moved on." 

"No." 

"I will tell Rhys whatever you need me to." 

Jack kissed him. 

Ianto watched him walk away. He could understand Rhys' jealousy. Jack had casual relationships with men and what few serious relationships he had were with women. He'd been married at some point, and came close another time. He had a daughter with a former Torchwood co-worker. And that's what Ianto knew about. Jack talked about former boyfriends but never girlfriends. He viewed it differently. A part-time shag as Owen had once called it. But Jack loved Gwen. 

With time to spare, he decided to get organized. He checked boxes to compare content to inventory. One had an envelope filled with colored labels. Which reminded him again of the automated message he'd received earlier. Whatever the situation was, she knew him. It made him uneasy. No matter how predictable, it gave him something to do. 

When Rhys Williams arrived with his two children, the boxes were color-coded based on the contents and would make transporting and unpacking easier. "Ianto." Rhys sounded uneasy and was trying to hide it from his children. 

"Rhys," Ianto acknowledged. "Did you find the loading bay?" 

"Yeah. My two guys are there now." 

"Good." Ianto nodded. 

"Gwen said you're rooming with Jack." 

"Yeah." 

The loading bay door opened. Ianto jumped. 

"Just a moment." Rhys looked at his daughter. "Stay here with your brother." 

Anwen held Trefor’s hand."We'll run with scissors while you're gone." 

Rhys groaned, heading down the hall. It must have been an old joke. 

"Anwen Williams. Nice to meet you." She smiled, looking so much like her mother. "This is Trefor." 

She unexpectedly reminded him of Gwen's pregnancy. Jack approached Gwen during a self-administered ultrasound and discovered a bomb implanted inside him. Jack had been ground zero when the hub was destroyed. The anxiety flared. 

"Ianto Jones." 

"I know. Uncle Jack's friend." She emphasized the last word. "Dad's been saying he needed a roommate." 

Ianto had no idea what to say to that. 

Anwen laughed. "I'm ten, not two." She smiled. "It.s good you're back. Maybe now dad will stop being a fool about Uncle Jack." 

Ianto rode with the Williams' to the flats. Rhys and Anwen sang to the radio. He stared out the passenger seat window. 

Rhys had coordinated with his drivers to transport the boxes. He expected the truck to be able to handle it in one trip. The color coding would determine which order they were packed and moved into Jack's apartment. 

"Gwen says you're good with details. The building is well-maintained. But it could use some cosmetic changes and landscaping." 

Ianto nodded as Rhys drove into the parking lot on the side. The anxiety was building again. 

"It used to have roses in the back." 

"Make a list," Ianto said quietly. 

"I can do that." Rhys parked near the door. He handed Ianto the spare set of keys to Jack's flat. 

"I can show him." 

"Stay in the building," Rhys said. "Don't bother Mr. Jones." Anwen waited by the car as Rhys carried Trefor in. "Do you need a glass of water?" 

"No." 

"The flats are nice. Big rooms. Jack has this big, ugly military surplus desk and that's it for furniture." 

Ianto told himself he was not going to have a meltdown in the parking lot in front of a child and climbed out of the car. 

"Is it time distortion?" Anwen asked as the building door closed. 

Ianto looked at her. 

"There was a time disturbance before you came back." She smiled. "I thought it might be like jet lag." 

"I'm tired."

  
It was a lot more than tired, Anwen Williams thought, leading him upstairs. She needed to keep Ianto away from the roof.


	8. Chapter 8

**Moss-Probert Corporate Headquarters; London, England **  
****

The spacious office inspired claustrophobia. Percy Heitt poured himself a drink. Listening to first hand accounts, and reading new reports left him tired. The facility was a total loss. The staff was dead. The research projects escaped. 

A contact with the police department identified Miriam Morgans on-scene talking to an unknown member of the Torchwood team. Which more than suggested she was behind the destruction. Given her history of anger issues and problems with authority, it made more sense than any of the other projects. Except the research targeted psychic potential not intelligence. Everything they had on Morgans from her company aptitude tests to her public school academics said Morgans didn't have the knowledge or necessary skills. A government background check supported their assessment. The recruiters had specific criteria for research projects. They wanted people of average intelligence with no ambition nor leadership skills. The lost, broken and submissive were preferred. 

Damage control was a priority. Reclaiming the projects was a necessity. Both would be problematic. The one silver lining was proof of successful enhancement. An autopsy would answer a lot of questions, and assist in recruitment for recreating the experiment. They needed to deal with the publicity and law enforcement first. 

The door opened as Heitt returned to his desk. Albreda Starkie looked as tired as he felt. It had been a long day and would get longer. "Lake and Caudell are waiting." 

Hewitt nodded. "Show them in." 

Lake always reminded him of a chameleon. He could blend with any surroundings, often convincing people he had a charmed upbringing. Nothing could be farther from the truth. His social presentation was almost as impressive as his street skills. A useful sociopath. 

Caudell had similar blending skills. The former military man followed orders and asked fewer questions. 

"The situation is a disaster." Heitt said, trying to keep his anger in check. "How did Torchwood get involved?" 

Lake sat forward in a chair across his desk. "The cybernetics project kicked in an impressive security door and crushed a security guard. The paramedics and medical examiner noted the extreme brutality," Lake said. "Torchwood was required to review the scene after a request was made. The bomb intentionally destroyed alien technology; it was found immediately." 

Heitt nodded. "We need to limit the damage. Our facilities are being inspected. UNIT is involved." 

"One of the scientists has a Middle Eastern grandmother. If we can connect her to terrorism, we can blame the research targeted by Torchwood on him. He passed a government background check. The blame would not be ours." 

"Do it." A thought than occurred to him. "And reclaim the projects."

  
**Torchwood Three; Cardiff, Wales**

Gwen Cooper worked alone in the hub. It was eerie. The noises were no longer familiar. The time changes kept reminding her of Bilis Manger and what he did mingled with memories of John Hart and Jack's brother Gray. It swirled, making her anxious. She hoped it would be normal again soon. 

She checked with Andy, followed up with police reports, and started reviewing location information. With no obvious police connection, she started to look at other information available. All of the corporate offices were on multiple mailing lists and shipping lists for medical and scientific equipment. 

One caught her attention. Jack sent her undercover to a fertility clinic years ago. Without Owen, it required a lot of research. Certain medical equipment was used exclusively in reproductive medicine. None of Moss-Probert facilities listed fertility research. 

She started taking notes. One list was what the various facilities claimed to be researching. Another list was shipments and deliveries of medical and research equipment. If only Owen and Tosh were still alive. As she was thinking about undeclared research, a thought occurred to her. Illegal pot growers were often found when the police checked their electricity usage. An office building with an undeclared facility would also have unusual energy requirements. At first glance, it looked normal. Than she checked for generators. One of their buildings reportedly had state-of-the-art solar panels on the roof. An article had been done about it. Between the standard energy use and the reported out-put of the solar power, the office building used significantly more energy than similar buildings in the same area.

  
**Moss-Probert Research Facility**

Jack's mobile rang en route to the facility. He answered it hands-free. 

"I have more information," Cory Lynch said, sounding exasperated. "The video I received showed a paramedic and two firefighters chasing a child through the woods. It makes me think of Bigfoot videos. Shaky, questionable. Witnesses say the child is feral. With extended canines and claws." 

"Werewolf?" 

"Yeah." Cory hesitated. "I overheard something months ago. Moss-Probert had an incident. A young woman from a wealthy family had a mental breakdown. She was traced to a homeless shelter. A Moss-Probert representative recruited her for a research study. Her family found out and demanded her return. The company claimed she left prior to the study. Two private investigators reportedly died trying to find her. She was found dead months later, conclusively identified and accidentally cremated before an autopsy could be performed." 

"Can you send me the details?" 

"Not really. It would lead back to me." 

"Do I have to tell you to be careful?" Jack asked. 

Cory chuckled. "I date older, wealthy, closeted men. I'm always careful." 

"I wouldn't call that careful." 

"It has its moments. But the presents are always worth it." 

"I need to go." Jack turned onto the facility's drive. 

"You owe me dinner." 

Jack hesitated. He had no idea how to explain Ianto. "I reconnected with an ex." 

"An ex worth turning down a date with me. I need to meet this person." 

"In time." 

"Vague. I must be younger and cuter." 

"Younger yes. Cuter no." 

Cody grumbled. "That's mean." 

"I will call you later." 

"Yeah, yeah." Cody ended the call. 

Werewolf children had to be simpler, Jack thought as he climbed out of the van. The scene looked much different than it had earlier. An ambulance sat next to the remaining fire trucks. The few people he could see were near the vehicle and on alert. 

"Captain Jack Harkness, Torchwood." He announced, walking up to the small group. "I understand there is a problem." 

A young, female firefighter walked over with a touchscreen phone, and held it out for him to view a video. It did look somewhat like a Bigfoot chase. Three men chasing a child in shorts. They split up to attempt to capture him. The child jumped from a tree and attacked a firefighter. 

"All three had to go to the hospital. The man taking the video was taken to the department shrink." From her tone, she'd explained it a few times before and hadn't been taken seriously. 

"Where was the child last seen?" 

"Behind the facility." 

"I have a tranq gun." Which was partially true. Jack headed back to the van, and retrieved the weapon before calling Gwen. 

"Hey," Gwen said. 

"Did MP provide the police a list of study participants?" 

"No. Why?" 

Jack explained about the child. 

"Do we have silver bullets?" 

Jack smiled. "Knowing the kid's name might help." 

"I wish I could help. When you get back, we need to discuss MP."

  
**Torchwood Three**

The door slid open. Jack carried a heavily restrained child. His shirt was torn and he wasn't wearing his coat. "Research survivor." He headed toward the cells. When Jack returned, he wasn't wearing a shirt. 

"We need someone to review medical equipment." 

Jack leaned over her, reviewing the information. It reminded her of why she wanted to avoid being alone with him. The stress at home was building. And Jack could test the vows of a saint. "They have an undeclared bio-lab. The type needed for extremely dangerous infectious research. And a quarantine unit." 

"Bloody hell."


	9. Chapter 9

**Torchwood London, 2044**

General Trefor Williams stood, staring out the window of his sister's office. Under other circumstances, he wouldn't have said anything about his sister's love life. He had enough problems dealing with his own. 

Anwen entered wearing jeans, a t-shirt and cowboy boots. Finding the time for her horses was healthy at least. He had no idea how to start the conversation. 

"What worries my baby brother?" She was using that tone. 

Trefor smiled. Whenever she was annoyed with him, he was her baby brother. It didn't matter he was twenty-seven or in charge of the Global Defense Force. It was her way of comparing his behavior to a toddler that threw tantrums and building blocks. 

"John Hart." 

Anwen groaned. "Why do you care?" 

"He's an unstable, homicidal addict who once tried to kill mum." 

Anwen opened her closet where she kept extra work clothes. "John is motivated by money and emotion. Give him a place to belong, an income and a person to love, and he's solid." A beat. "With Keara gone, he's out of control." 

"John Hart is a rabid dog." Trefor couldn't believe what he was hearing. When they dragged John back to Torchwood the last time, he had overdosed on drugs and alcohol. "I know you took care of him." Drying out an addict with multiple malfunctions was intense. "Are you sure about your motivations?" 

"Yes." 

"You're manipulating a violent sociopath by sleeping with him." 

"I've been alone a long time, Tref." She selected a suit. "Dating outside of Torchwood is impossible. Dating a subordinate is a bad idea." She folded the outfit over her arm and shut the closet. "John doesn't want control. Or a promotion." A beat. "The arrangement works for both of us."

  


Anwen Williams returned to her flat at Torchwood London wondering if she had the energy for dinner. One government leader said he didn't recognize the authority of Torchwood because he didn't believe in aliens or the Rift. A Middle Eastern ambassador refused to speak with a woman; she refused to give into to the misogynist arse. The other leaders, politicians and representatives also acted like small children. She was suppose to be arbitrating and negotiating, not babysitting a bunch of spoiled brats. 

She smelled pot roast as she opened the door. It reminded her of coming home from school and dad cooking. She missed her parents, and silly conversations with Jack. After her mother died, Jack retreated. They still talked now and again, but it wasn't the same. 

"You cook?" 

John was in the kitchen area connected to the main room. He waited until she crossed the room to respond. "No." He smiled. "I told Cynthia you were overworked and losing weight." 

Anwen laughed. 

"Pot roast, vegetables from the vertical garden and a homemade pie." 

His ability to charm people reminded her of Jack. A charming, mischievous rogue. Seeing him standing in her kitchen with dinner, made it hard to believe he'd pushed Jack off a roof, caused the deaths of two Torchwood people and left her mum to die. 

"I need to change." 

"Cynthia dropped off your laundry this morning. The basket's on the bed." 

Which explained how he met with the head of housekeeping and charmed her into dinner. "Thanks." 

Anwen changed and returned to the main room. John had already set the table. All she had to do was sit and eat. Trefor wouldn't understand. When he wanted company, he went to a pub or a club or a coffee shop and found someone for the evening or the weekend. Even if that appealed, she was too recognizable. Men could get away with casual dating. If she tried it, the media would have a field day. 

"How was daycare?" 

That brought her thoughts back to the table. "What?" 

"The arbitration with the 'adult tantrums.'" 

Anwen smiled. She'd forget she told him that the night before. "A bunch of wankers. A friend of Jack's told me during a break that one of the representatives said I'm the head of Torchwood because I'm shagging Jack." 

John laughed, almost choking. "You did say it was the family business." 

Anwen threw a roll at him and hit in the head. He threw it back. Anwen laughed. John caught it the second time. He moved around the table and jokingly threatened to crush the roll against her forehead. They 

laughed and kissed. 

More importantly the day faded and the stress with it.

  


Anwen Williams woke and rubbed her face. "What time is it?" 

John stepped into the bedroom. "1000." 

Puzzled, she pushed herself up. The curtains were drawn, but she could see sunlight beyond them. "How?" 

"I called your assistant at 0600 and told him your phone was off." 

Anwen laughed. "What did you threaten to do to Langford if he woke me?" 

"Nothing you want to know about." 

"Did he ask why?" 

"I told him you were indisposed." 

"You didn't." She was still chuckling she climbed out of bed. 

"No." John smiled. "He would have died of embarrassment." 

"Yeah. I met Landford when I was twelve. His late wife watched me and Trefor while our parents worked." She headed for the bathroom. "What time am I expected?" 

"After lunch." 

She peaked her head back out the door. "I thought I had an appointment with a representative." 

"Javed Halim insisted on speaking with Jack." 

"For the best. Halim is an old school women-should-be-seen-and-not-heard type. Sudan is having trouble with extremists and he's in London seeking help because he pissed off Aman. Torchwood Nigeria is obviously closer." Anwen returned to the bathroom. 

"Do you dislike the man?" 

She didn't respond for a few minutes. "Oh yeah. The last time I dealt with him, I walked into the meeting carrying a puppy and set it on the desk." 

John laughed. "What happened to diplomacy?" 

"He angered Aman by making anti-gay comments and offering him a bride along the lines of conversion therapy." She sighed. "He was incapable of understanding how offensive he was. The puppy stated my case." She paused a moment. "The man's an arse." 

"I'd rather see your arse. Can I wash your back? 

Anwen laughed. "We have a couple hours, right?"


	10. Chapter 10

**Patty's Pub; London, England  
**

**Friday, June 21, 2019**  


Percy Heitt focused on the situation from the passenger seat of a late model sedan borrowed from one of the employees. Albreda chose the location randomly. A seedy bar filled with low-end blue collar workers was the perfect cover as no one would know them. 

Inconsistencies bothered him. Each of the subjects at the facility had extensive background checks and psychology testing. None should have been capable or even willing to rebel. The subject infused with alien metal forming a partial exoskeleton was broken to the point of subservience. He'd been chosen for that reason. Yet, he tore off doors and impacted one of the security guards in a concrete floor. Which suggested he formed a bond with Morgans. Something else the researchers should have noticed. 

Albreda parked blocks away. She was uneasy about waiting in the car. He couldn't blame her. "Be careful." 

Heitt nodded before climbing out of the car. The area was depressing. He walking passed the decrepit buildings and avoided eye contact with the derelicts. If he had his way, they would round up the lot of them. Military or research. Either way, they'd be useful. Allowing the homeless and wayward to congregate was a disgrace. 

Inside of the pub was even worse. Dim lights did little to hide the grime. He ordered a bottle beer. He didn't trust anything that wasn't sealed. Then he found a table in the back away from the degenerates, and placed his back to the wall. 

Arriving early gave him more time to think. Torchwood proved more complicated and competent than expected. They made connections they shouldn't have been able to make. The werewolf boy video and injured emergency workers was a nightmare. Which could have been contained with bribes and a careful media strategy except Captain Harkness found the subject and took him somewhere. Lake had an investigator searching for the boy. The extreme situation required an equally extreme response. They had to get Torchwood to back down and get out of the way. Which required leverage. 

Once the local situation was resolved, they would quietly reopen their doors in an area without extradition treaties. Some would ignore the situation for varying reasons. Others would welcome them for enough money. They could lose all the real estate in the United Kingdom and stay afloat. But they needed their data. Having the projects alive was preferable, but dead worked. As long as they controlled all of it. Heitt checked his watch. In less than an hour, he would be in the air headed for Russia. Moscow would work temporarily. The trip would even double as an alibi. But he had last minute details to attend. Caudell entered the pub, ordered a beer at the bar and wandered over. The large, former military man looked at home anywhere. At the office, he wore expensive clothing and was polite, well-groomed and cultured. Whereas in a seedy pub, he wore cheap jeans, a t-shirt and work boots. Anyone looking at him would think he was a blue collar worker buying a beer on a day off. Or after working overnight. 

"Did you review the information?" Heitt asked as Caudell sat across from him in the back of the pub. 

"Yes." The younger man calmly folded his hands around a stein, seemingly uncaring his back was to a room full of degenerates. 

"Can you do it?" 

"Yes." He already had the team selected. "Two million." 

Heitt knew it would come down to money. Taking on Torchwood was neither pleasant nor easy. "Agreed." 

"See you in Russia." 

Heitt stood and calmly walked from the bar. No one paid any attention. Albreda Starkie started the car as he climbed in. 

"Is plan B in place?" 

"Yeah," she said quietly. 

Good, he thought. If Caudell failed, the building would be destroyed. Either way, Captain Jack Harkness would know the price of interfering.

  


Stilleman Caudell waited until Heitt left to motion over his team. He'd served in the military with Bevans, Wogan and Cranmmore. Palfrey was recommended by someone he trusted. Without a word, they claimed chairs around the table. As instructed, they dressed to blend. Other former military would notice. 

Each had extensive experience in combat situations and had seen a lot worse than a decent apartment building in Cardiff with unusual security precautions. Once they confirmed the Torchwood team was not in the building or specifically Captain Harkness was not, it would be a pretty simple matter of getting through the adult or adults and grabbing the kids. 

"We're doing this, sarge?" Wogan sounded nervous. No one listening would realize the kid survived two tours in the Middle East. In a war zone, he was frosty. Social situations were another story. 

"Yeah. Heitt agreed." Caudell told them he was demanding a million instead of two. He had higher stands of living. 

Bevans sat back and sipped his beer. He wasn't sure about the situation, but he wasn't backing out. Not unexpected. He was the oldest and had the most experienced in the group. 

Palfrey nodded. "We have a lay-out of the building?" 

Caudell brought up the blueprints on his tablet and handed it to Palfrey. "Only two occupied flats. Harkness lives on the fourth floor. The Williams live on the third." 

"We're attacking Torchwood." Bevans sat forward. "We won't be able to stay in the UK when this is over. Do we have an extraction plan?" 

"Yes." Caudell had multiple plans. Russia was not the only non-extradition country. Depending on how it went, they could leave several ways. Ideally, they would grab the kids, make the exchange, and board a plane at a barely maintained airstrip north of Cardiff. 

"Any chance its a set-up?" Bevans asked. 

Caudell had considered it. Percy Heitt was a self-serving asshole who would sell his mother to get ahead. He'd reviewed the situation from different angles. There were any number of complications. Heitt wouldn't benefit by screwing them. If he did sell them out, Caudell was prepared for that too.


	11. Chapter 11

**En Route Sanatorium Park; Cardiff, Wales**

Two days later, and Jack Harkness still struggled with the changes. Driving the van felt strange. Gwen riding shotgun was easier to process. Preferring her company added to the guilt. It wasn't that he didn't want Ianto back, it was the stress that went with it. 

"What do we know?" 

Gwen used one of the modified tablets to remotely access Torchwood Three and the Internet. "Not much. Teenagers walking in the park found what they believe was a body. They reported an alien probe eating it." That amused her. "Responding police officers assumed the kids were high. They still haven't ruled it out, but they did find what may have been a body with some type of metal thing embedded in it." A beat. "Padrig Toller, the senior constable, opted to call us instead of the morgue because the surrounding vegetation is dead." 

"Have they considered its a bio-hazard?" A ghoulish display made more sense for Halloween. 

"No. Karlen Bryn, the other constable, suspects it’s a prank. She’s worked security at universities for extra cash and says it looks like a student prank." 

"Have they secured the area?" 

"Yeah. Hold on." Gwen tapped the screen. "Toller is now reporting the tent placed over the remains is dissolving." 

"Evacuate the park." The police should have done it immediately. "Possible hazmat situation. Get a helo in the air for additional photographs." Bizarre situations in Cardiff hadn't been a secret for years. 

Gwen grabbed her mobile from the charger. Jack tuned her out as she made arrangements. 

"Could this be a distraction, Jack?" 

"What?" 

"Moss-Probert has called in favors, destroyed evidence, and there are no witnesses. I make progress on tracing one of their affiliate companies and suddenly we have a strange body and a possible biohazard." 

"What would the distraction accomplish?" 

Gwen held up her hands. "I don't know. Give them time to make evidence disappear?" 

"Call Ianto and walk him through picking up where you left off." 

"How is Ianto doing?" 

Jack hesitated. "The stress is manifesting as OCD. The fear I will leave him has him waiting on me. Meals, coffee, chores. The fear of dying is overwhelming at times. He wakes up screaming and doesn't remember the nightmare." The control issues made it worse. 

"It will get better." 

"I know."

  


**Hughes Flats**

Anwen Williams watched Ianto clean the kitchen counter for the third time and wished there was something she could say. She already knew not to mention cleaning. Her mum cleaned when angry and sometimes when she was unable to sleep. Ianto seemed to be trying to control everything around him. Pointing out he was cleaning an already clean counter would upset him. 

All she could do was follow him around and help with chores. She'd overheard her dad asking her mum if she had a crush on Ianto. Explaining she was worried wouldn't have helped. She hoped no one said anything to Ianto. Uncle Jack would at least find it funny. 

The dryer dinged. "I got it." Normally, she avoided chores. She couldn't very well tell him she was worried he'd hurt himself. The washer and dryer occupied a section of bathroom. She unloaded the new towels into a basket, and carried it into the bedroom. It had to be set next to the bathroom door and not on the bed. When she tried helping with folding yesterday, she thought he'd have a heart attack. 

"Thanks." 

Ianto's mobile rang half way through folding the towel. she knew he would stress out. Any type of disruption aggravated whatever was wrong with him. "Hello." He balanced the phone between his head and shoulder. 

She resisted the urge to help. Control, perfection and anxiety. She didn't want to make it worse. It had something to do with what happened. Torchwood needed a manual on psychiatric problems caused by bizarre or impossible situations. It wasn't something she could check out from the library. 

"Uh, yeah." He set down the towel. "What am I looking for?" 

Ianto headed for the office through the bathroom. Anwen turned around and headed for the kitchen. She grabbed her laptop and entered Jack's office from the main room. Netflix had a movie she wanted to watch. Being in the office meant she could watch the movie and still keep an eye on him. 

Ianto had Jack's computers switched on. 

With her dad downstairs, and her mum at work, she could get away with watching Cowboys and Aliens again. Her parents didn't consider it age appropriate. Ianto paid no attention to what she watched. She wondered why her parents hadn't considered that possibility. It made more sense than having a crush on her uncle's boyfriend. 

"Anwen's been here all morning," Ianto said. "She was bored downstairs."

  


**Sanatorium Park**

The scene was chaotic. Gwen Cooper wondered again if it was a distraction. It sounded like something out of a tabloid. Emergency workers had barricades up. Several police cars, two fire engines, and a morgue van. Two reporters were setting up equipment just outside the barricade. It would be a media circus before long. 

"Torchwood," Jack announced to the officer at the nearest barricade. He smiled and the young man looked down and blushed. She shook her head slightly. Jack had that affect on people. 

Gwen simply waved and picked up her pace to catch Jack as he crossed the grass. The remains were on a patchy grass area next to the River Ely. She could see why the kids described it as an alien probe eating a body. It looked like some out of a low budget horror movie. 

Jack flipped open his wrist-strap after he stepped into the trees. "Scattered alien metal, a few broken devices and a malfunctioning miniature maintenance bot. Decay from the body suggests it came from a morgue." 

"Distraction," Gwen concluded. "Can you deactivate the bot?" 

Jack tapped his wrist-strap. "Tell the police its not dangerous, but will take hours to clean up. The park needs to stay closed." 

"Why would Moss-Probert do this?" 

"I don't know." A beat. "Call Andy. Tell him to monitor all emergency calls. Anything unusual or involving Moss-Probert, we need to know immediately."


	12. Chapter 12

**Hughes Flats; Cardiff, Wales**

Ianto Jones reviewed files. Simple clerical work felt normal somehow. After two days, he still struggled with the situation. He died, was gone for ten years, and suddenly returned. It might have been easier if Jack was responsible. He'd know why. An anonymous voice telling him she thought he was some kind of hero added to his fears. After what happened with the Resurrection Glove and both Suzie and Owen, he knew there would be consequences. 

Anwen chuckled, watching a movie on her laptop. He didn't know much about children. She seemed content to follow him around which made no more sense than anything else. He didn't like chores at ten. From Gwen's tone, Anwen didn't either. 

Halfway through an odd bank statement, some type of alarm sounded. Anwen was on her feet quickly. "Back door alarm. Check the drawer to your right. There should be a handgun in there. Most of Jack's weapons are DNA encoded." 

Ianto stared at her a moment before checking the drawer. He found a semi-automatic pistol. 

"Is Uncle Jack nearby?" 

"I don't know." 

"Call him." 

Anwen moved her right hand over her left wrist and a strap appeared. "It’s directly connected to the hub. I'm an easier target." She then explained, "It can't be removed." Ianto reached for his phone, wondering if Anwen was the one in the future who brought him back. If she was capable of handling a home invasion at ten, what could she handle at twenty or thirty. 

"Harkness." 

Ianto explained what Anwen told him. 

"We're across town."

  


From Ianto's expression, Anwen Williams knew. She debated the pros and cons briefly before flipping open her wrist strap. "John Hart." 

The blood rushed from Ianto's face. "What are you doing?" 

"Anwen?" 

"Back door alarm went off. I'm here with Ianto. Dad has Trefor downstairs." A beat. "Jack and mom won't get here in time." 

"Five minutes." John disconnected. 

"Why?" Ianto stared at her. 

"I met him in the basement. If he wanted to hurt us, he would have done it already." She held out the wrist-strap. "It’s connected to some type of Torchwood network. Which means John's connected to Torchwood." 

"Does Jack know?"

  


John Hart entered through the back entrance using a key he made himself earlier. He paused, listening. His hearing was impressive, and he heard nothing. He went for the stairs. If the intruders were going blind, they would look on the third floor. Otherwise, they would go for the fourth. Organized would do both. 

He paused to scan the building with the basic security equipment he installed earlier. There were five intruders. Two on each floor. One in the stairwell. Each team was trying to manually unlock the apartment doors. They had no idea how the tech they used to enter worked. 

"Anwen." 

She replied, "Someone is trying to break in." 

"Is Ianto there?" 

"Yep." 

He quickly explained the situation. "Are you armed?" 

"Yep." 

"I will take the two on the third floor. Keep her alive, Ianto, she's the future of Torchwood." And more. 

John headed for the stairs. The look out was on the second floor. He disrupted their ear pieces. He pulled a miniature stun grenade from his pocket, and tossed it up the stairs; it detonated. He un-holstered a gun. When he peered around the corner, the man wasn't dazed. A shot grazed his arm. He tossed a second grenade and instead of waiting, as he had before, he spun around the corner and caught the man preparing to withstand the grenade. 

He climbed the stairs. The man was still alive. He had no idea how, and shot a second time point blank in the head. He ran up the remaining stairs. The Williams' third floor door was already open when he reached it. John heard a shot before he stepped in. A man, dressed all in black, was backing toward the door. They'd both underestimated Rhys Williams. 

"Stop." 

The man did and hesitated as he raised his arms. John knew the trick and shot him. 

"Shoot the other one in the head." 

A shot sounded as he was crouching by the man he'd taken down. He couldn't immediately tell what type of scan distortion technology the man was using, but the bio-mechanical enhancements were obvious. 

"Do you have any idea," John said quietly, "What that boy's father would have done to you?" John shot him again. 

Rhys stepped out of the bedroom. He had a gun and blood on his clothes. "Who the bloody hell are you?" 

"I'm from a different Torchwood office, Mr. Williams. I was closer than Jack." John stood. "I need to get upstairs." 

A gun shot sounded from upstairs. John ran.

  


The door opened. Ianto Jones was in the doorway to the bedroom. Security cameras indicated guns, not alien tech. 

"Give us the girl," one of the men called. 

"Jack's already in the building." An embarrassing lie that seemed to confuse them. 

Four shots sounded from downstairs. Ianto could hear their quiet movements in the kitchen; they were getting restless. He suspected their communication was gone. A trick he remembered John once used on the team. 

"We have to get out of here." 

One of the men moved toward the bedroom and Ianto shot at him and the back backed up. "Your men are dead." He wished he sounded more confident. 

"The fat man got lucky." 

"Did he disable your mobiles? Rhys wouldn't know how." 

The man hesitated. Ianto figured one or both of them were checking their phones." 

"Someone's in the building," one man said uneasily. 

Annoyed, the other responded, "Harkness is across town." 

"He's coming up the stairs." Ianto knew he sounded like an idiot. He had no idea how else to buy time. Or what he would do when John got there. 

Four shots followed quickly. Ianto peered around the door frame. Both men were down. John was backing up. "Get the door closed." 

A crunching sound and metal crashing followed. 

Anwen's wrist strap chimed as she climbed out from under the bed. "What happened?" 

"Can you sense the creature by the door?" 

"Uh." Anwen closed her eyes and concentrated on John. She could easily sense him. Then she realized what she was looking for was not an energy signature, but a negative area. "I can sense it. I don't know what it is." 

"Throw it into the Rift." 

"How?" 

"I don't know. I never asked." John sighed. "You can throw it into the Rift." 

Anwen had a different idea. She focused on the Rift. She could sense its familiar, tingling energy. She channeled the energy into the nothing, and the Rift absorbed it. She lost her balance almost immediately, feeling dizzy and nauseous. Ianto reached for her and she waved him off. "Is it gone?" 

"What did you do?" Ianto demanded. 

"It’s what she did. If Anwen can't disconnect, put her in the coldest shower you can." 

"What?" 

"Anwen. Can you get to the bathroom?" 

"Help me." 

"Darling, I can't get to you in time. The creature left a toxic mess." 

Ianto picked her up. Everything was starting to glow. 

"Get her cold."


	13. Chapter 13

**Hughes Flats; Cardiff, Wales**

Not for the first time, Gwen Cooper wondered about the price of working for Torchwood. She usually loved it. Working with Jack, she'd seen both the amazing and the impossible. Rhys had reservations about her returning to work. Security issues were always a concern. Hughes Flats should have resolved some of the problems. 

It couldn't resolve Rhys' increasing jealousy of Jack. She couldn't very well tell her husband that his irrational behavior stressed her to the point of daydreaming. She made her choice more then ten years ago. It was the right choice then and now. But stress heightened Jack's appeal. 

Gwen's mobile rang. "Are you okay?" She could hear Trefor crying in the background. 

Rhys sounded relieved. "The bloke you sent to help took out four of the five of them." 

"What bloke?" 

"He said he was Torchwood and closer. He had a thing on his wrist like Jack." 

The only other wrist-strap Gwen knew of belonged to John Hart. "The kids are okay?" 

"Trefor is okay. Anwen," Rhys hesitated. "I don't know." 

"What happened?" 

"You need to hear it from Ianto." Rhys paused for a moment. "The front area of Jack's flat was destroyed. The floor looks solid. The wall between the flat and the hallway, the kitchen counter, the table, the carpet." He hesitated. "It looks like a very strange bomb went off." 

"Jack's pulling into the car park." 

"We're on the third floor." 

Gwen couldn't get passed the wrist-strap comment as she climbed out of the van. She explained what Rhys said. 

"I don't know." 

Jack ran for the building and Gwen followed. They took the stairs instead of the lift. He paused to scan the body. "A biomech. The person who did this knew what they were doing." 

"Another time agent?" 

"According to John, there are only seven left." He believed that much. "John's the only one that would come here." 

"Why would John save my family?" 

"I don't know." 

At the third floor, Jack stopped. "I need to check the damage." 

Gwen nodded. She headed through the door into the hallway as Jack continued upstairs.

  


Jack Harkness scanned the damage twice. Even with identical readings, he didn't believe what he was seeing. A creature that should have destroyed the building was taken by the Rift. While the Rift did remove people and items, it was random. This wasn't. 

Jack headed downstairs with a growing list of questions. Ianto was standing outside the apartment leaning against the wall. He looked pale. 

"Are you okay?" 

"No." 

Jack offered a hug, and Ianto leaned his head on Jack's shoulder. "I need to know what happened." 

"Anwen can control the Rift." Ianto pressed his face to Jack's shoulder. "And John Hart." 

Jack held Ianto and wondered. Anwen could see the Rift and sense time. He had no explanation for the readings upstairs. 

"How did John get involved?" 

"Anwen called him for help." 

The only way that made sense is if it had something to do with the wrist-strap, and than he realized why it looked so familiar. It was a replica of John's with minor differences.

  


Gwen Cooper entered her flat and found Anwen on the floor with wet hair wrapped in a blanket next to Trefor who was building another tower with his blocks. Anwen looked up at her with tired eyes and a weak smile. 

Rhys hovered nearby, his clothing stained with blood. Only then did she remember Rhys saying the other man took out four of the five invaders. A part of her mind must have assumed Ianto shot the other one. 

Careful of Trefor, Gwen sat on on the floor. Her toddler had to have space or would throw another tantrum. "Are you up to telling me what happened?" 

"It all started with the tooth fairy in the storage room…" Anwen tried recounting what happened as if it was a funny story. The humor didn’t reach her eyes. 

Gwen listened, having trouble connecting the John Hart who tried to kill her and the one who saved her family. 

"When we talked about drugs, you said addicts could do horrible things,” Anwen said. “It’s a sickness." 

"Yes." 

"If John went to one of those places, maybe he's not sick anymore." 

Even recovering addicts had serious problems. The immediate question was why John cared. There had to be something in it for him, but she had no idea what. She could imagine it had to do with getting back into Jack's good graces. Ten years had passed for them. John moved through time so it could be weeks or months for him. 

"How old does John look?" 

"Jack's age, maybe. His hair is grayer." 

"Was he wearing a red coat?" 

"No." 

Gwen stood and moved over to Rhys. He motioned her farther into the flat. 

"What is it?" 

"What exactly did John say to you?" 

Rhys stopped to think. "He was from a different Torchwood office and closer than Jack." 

"Remember the man I told you about who worked with Jack before Torchwood? He tried to kill me, shot Owen, threw Jack off a roof? His second visit he blew up half of Cardiff. Owen and Tosh died." 

Rhys nodded. "The bloke that was here was calm and made me think military." Pause. "I talked to Ianto after wards. John was here to protect Anwen." 

"He came here first?" 

"Yeah. He assumed Ianto could handle himself. Which he did." Rhys emphasized. "Ianto's scared of his own shadow and managed to control the situation until John got there."

  


**Near Hughes Flats; Cardiff, Wales**

John Hart sat on the floor in his house. After all he'd seen, done, and survived, he thought he'd never feel again. The sex, alcohol and drug addictions had been an unconscious attempt to feel. None of it worked. He'd been angry and lashed out, blaming others for what was missing. 

He held up the simple necklace with a gold ring. It looked braided on top. Simple and solid without adornment, like the woman it belong to. She had been many things to him. He chose peace for the inside engraving. It was the one thing no one else had ever given him. 

With a sigh, he tucked it back under his shirt. She was gone. When the time changes started, the woman he knew and loved ceased to exist. If he lived to see her again, he would be too old, and the circumstances leading to their relationship couldn't be repeated. 

Unable to handle the memories or pain, he forced himself to focus on the laptop and Stilleman Caudell's flash drive. It had unexpected information. Caudell had been hired to abduct Anwen or Trefor. The goal was extortion. Security and alien tech details were minimal. The building blueprints came from the city and included what floor and flat the Williams lived in. Which could have been determined from utility records. The result of shooting Caudell appeared to be secondary. He doubted Moss-Probert knew the consequences of what they intended. 

Anwen's ability was unknown to them. Even after destroying the creature, they should have assumed Jack's defenses did it. Although, he couldn't guarantee it. If they figured it out, the next attempt on Anwen would be a power grab. 

The gaps and inaccuracies suggested the information wasn't firsthand. The psychological profile on Jack was hilarious. Egomaniac and sex-crazed. His immortality was reduced to fast healing. Caudell either suspected a set-up or alternatively Moss-Probert wanted to plant information. Which could mean the profile was intended to be insulting. Either way, one of them expected Torchwood to act on it. It wouldn't take much to determine whether MP would benefit from it. That would tell him the intel's purpose. 

After improving Jack's security net, and his own, he could work on the MP problem. It helped that Anwen had a tracking device. Jack had changed a great deal since the days they worked together. But his methods were much the same. It meant he knew where Anwen was all the time.


	14. Chapter 14

**Hughes Flats; Cardiff, Wales**

**Saturday, June 22, 2019**

Gwen Cooper stepped through the roof access door. Jack stood where she expected watching the sunrise. He had one foot up, meaning he was thinking. Anwen asked more than once about Jack and roofs, and she didn't know how to explain Jack's ego to her daughter. Like a King, Jack surveyed his land. She closed the door quietly behind her. 

"Andy called." 

Jack held out a hand toward her as a gesture without turning his head. She joined him. The familiar lights and sounds of early morning Cardiff were relaxing. They rarely spent time alone anymore. Rhys's jealousy and her reaction to stress made it a bad idea. 

"The peasants are restless. Tedmund Lake is dead. Dr. Guenevere Floyd, the medical examiner, asked to speak in person. Six Moss-Probert employees, including Lake, have been killed since the facility was destroyed. Thirty years of pathology experience and Floyd isn't sure how they died." Gwen shook her head. 

Jack set an arm over her shoulders. "How are you holding up?" 

"I don't know." Gwen sighed. "Anwen has changed. What happened with John and the Rift gave her this insane confidence. But somehow she's still a ten year-old." Gwen rubbed her face. "She told Rhys to stop being a jealous fool or get out." 

He gave her a gentle squeeze. 

She leaned into it. "Why is any of this happening?" 

"A future head of Torchwood opted to change time to prevent a situation she couldn't solve." 

He was keeping something from her. Anytime she started asking questions, she felt like Jack, Ianto, and even her daughter were hiding something. "What does that have to do with Anwen?" 

"Knowing about the future…" 

"Stop it." She wanted answers. "Tell me!" 

"Anwen made the changes. Anwen in the future." 

Gwen couldn't believe she hadn't seen it. As crazy as it sounded, it made sense. Everything except John.

  


**Mae'r Chwaer Hyll**

Unsure of how else to contact John, Jack Harkness made arrangements through Anwen. John reluctantly agreed and named a time and place. He sounded different. Time had passed since his last visit to Cardiff and something changed him. The question was what could have affected him that much. 

The pub was busy on a Saturday afternoon. Pool balls clashed on one side of the room. Televisions murmured in one corner and over the bar. Jack walked around tables full of happy, noisy people. John Hart sat in the back where he expected him. His clothes were similar to what showed in the building's CCTV footage. He was eating dinner and drinking water. He looked up from his tablet a moment before switching it off. 

"Which speech am I getting first?" He sounded amused. "Breaking into your house? Talking to your niece? Or violating territory?" John sipped his water. That sounded more like the man he knew. 

"Moss-Probert." 

"Down to business. MP is a corporation involved in genetic engineering. Torchwood policy changed at some point from arresting the scientists to executing them. Countries quietly hunted them for knowledge and experience in combining contemporary and alien technology for military purposes." 

"And you just know that?" 

"One of the varied duties Torchwood assigned involved soldiers. Having been one yourself, you sympathized with the conscripted. I hunted them." John sipped water. "There was nothing anyone could do except put them down." 

Jack suspected there was a lot more to it. "What did Torchwood offer?" 

"Varaxi crystals. Boxes came through the Rift. The general paid me two an assignment. Except MP soldiers.” John smiled. “I expected hazard pay." 

Jack laced his fingers together. "Two crystals an assignment?" 

John’s smiled broadened. "The general offered two originally and lied about how much he thought they were worth. To make me think I was conning him." 

It sounded plausible. "What country?" 

"None. He was in charge of Earth's space defense." John’s humor faded. "Something changed. Earth was at war with itself and aliens. Torchwood believed they came through the Rift originally from another time line or universe, and determined when they started affecting Earth. It was necessary to combat the influence. Which is why they needed me." 

Jack knew he was missing something. "How did Torchwood recruit you?" 

"The general used recovered alien technology and scans of your vortex manipulator to abduct me. He then offered me the crystals in exchange for an assignment." 

"He's someone I know." 

John nodded. "You will know him." 

"How is Anwen involved in this?" 

"She's the head of Torchwood in 2049. It’s different than it is now." John hesitated. "This isn't a conversation we should be having." 

"Anwen sent back a malfunctioning wrist-strap and you to protect her?" 

John shook his head. "Except it isn't malfunctioning. Anwen knew how her ability would manifest. After her younger self knew how it worked, she'd make a bad target." 

Jack knew John wasn't telling him everything. The pronounced change made him wonder more than Torchwood bribing him with a king's ransom. "What happened to you?" 

"I almost died. A Torchwood woman cleaned me up and dried me out. Cliche romance." 

"Where is she now?" 

John looked at the table, the pain written across his face. "She's gone." 

There were still pieces missing. John was a mercenary for Torchwood. They paid insanely. Then he met a woman, fell in love, and was trying to honor her. He'd be there ally while the guilt and the pain lasted. Or rather he'd follow Torchwood 2049 orders while it lasted.


	15. Chapter 15

**Sanatorium Park; Cardiff, Wales**

Dressing like his father made him look and feel ridiculous. A necessary indignity to evaluate the scene. The Global fleet uniforms were inspired by British military history. But no one wore bracers with a belt. It implied an inability to keep one's pants on. 

The constable manning the barricade smiled at him and moved it without a word. He smiled back. The man blushed and looked down. The downside to looking exactly like his father albeit a younger version, when he wasn't impersonating him, was dealing with the incredible number of people Jack flirted with nevertheless dated at some point over the years. He doubted his father could keep track. 

Away from the constables, he flipped open his wrist-strap. The device had been modified from his father's, and quickly produced a holographic layout of the park and the various artifacts. Moss-Probert had a self-centered approach to alien technology. If they could make it work, and it was useful, they used it. Otherwise, they discarded. Often with little regard to the consequences. 

The miscellaneous alien trash could provide information, if one knew what they were looking for. A device near the river, away from the staged body scene, was of particular interest. He crouched down and brushed the dirt off of it. While it was little more than a broken doorknob, where it came from interested him. Readings indicated a tag from the former Torchwood office in Nigeria. MP's connection to that office, and the arse in charge of it, were years in the future. Or should have been. 

Another major difference between him and his father. Their taste in men. He'd made a few bad decisions in his youth, most notably an older rugby player, but drunk and stupid was a long way from homicidal lunatic. Even John with his co-dependence and addictions was a far cry from the arse connected to Nigeria. 

He stood, wondering. Aman Oliveira was forty-seven in 2049. While it wasn't impossible that the current seventeen year-old version gained power early, aided by the changes made in time, he doubted it. They suspected Oliveira fled through time with stolen Torchwood information. Possibly with Jack's help. With neither the knowledge or technology necessary to establish early, he hadn't expected much. The psychic hadn't agreed with that assessment. He suspected she'd been right. Not surprising as she'd been right about almost everything.

  


**Moss-Probert Office; Moscow, Russia**

Percy Heitt reviewed reports at his desk in the new office. The building and neighborhood left much to be desired. The noisy downstairs neighbor was a wannabee record producer with an odd assortment of clients. Directly across from the wannabee was a modeling agency that either promoted porn or was a low rent escort agency. Whichever the case, the situation was mortifying. 

The botched abduction attempt was a bigger headache. Caudell had a five man team including three biomechs. Captain Harkness and his paramour were across town. An unknown person or persons took out Caudell and the creature that should have destroyed the building. The police report claimed Rhys Williams and an unspecified guest of Harkness defended against the home invasion. Which wasn't possible. Scan readings of the building indicate the creature was transported into the Rift. Harkness was reportedly afraid of opening the Rift which meant someone else was involved. Except there was no evidence of another person. 

He could only conclude there was a problem with his information, including two unknown Torchwood agents in Cardiff. Which made him wonder how several sources were inaccurate. The extra agents had unexpected knowledge and skills. He needed better information. 

Heitt reached for the phone. There was a party planner who was very good at coordinating fundraisers. A wine tasting or an art gallery showing would work as a cover. Both for those in favor of the company's various projects and those who traded in information. It would be worth the expense.

  


**Coffi Chwerthinllyd; Cardiff, Wales**

Cory Lynch wondered again for the umpteenth time about doing favors for friends. Griffin Kendrick was elderly and wealthy and determined to give his granddaughter a fairytale wedding. He couldn't figure out if Kendrick truly cared or if he wanted to oversee the wedding so it didn't embarrass him. It could even be a combination of both. Cory suspected the bride and groom would head for Las Vegas long before Kendrick's ideas could be worked out. 

He needed strong coffee, and wished for Irish, as he headed toward the small shop. Most of his projects were in London and he preferred to stay in England. The small shop was where he remembered it. He'd been there once with Jack. Which came to mind as he approached the glass storefront and saw the familiar vintage coat. 

That made the trip worth it. He had questions about the supposed ex who was cuter. Jack could be mean when it suited him. Cory suspected Jack intentionally pushed his buttons. He'd done it before. Cory opened the door and step inside. The line was several people long. "Nice coat." A compliment always made Jack smile. 

The man looked back and smiled. "Thanks." 

With a neutral expression, he asked, "World War II?" Cory wondered if he'd missed the joke. The man looked almost exactly like Jack. Except he was younger and his body language was wrong. 

"Yep." 

"I plan at least one historical event a year. Usually an excuse for people to wear expensive costumes and get drunk." 

"Sounds fun." 

Jack might find it fun, but Cory doubted the impostor would. "I know someone who would love to see an authentic costume. Can I take a picture?" 

He hesitated for a moment. Then as if remembering who he was impersonating, he agreed. 

"Thanks. He'll love it." Cory took a picture with his mobile. 

He tucked the mobile back in his pocket and focused on looking bored. Anyone with the balls to impersonate Jack was not someone he wanted to anger.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16: Hughes Flats; Cardiff, Wales**

Anwen Williams felt different. Physically, she didn't think anything changed. But what she saw when she looked in the mirror told another story. Three days ago, she'd been a relatively normal kid. Her mom and uncle worked a kind of law enforcement, so things were weird at times. It wasn't the first safety threat. When she thought back to what happened after the back door alarm sounded, she didn't recognize herself. 

People often said she was her mother's mini me. She was her mother's daughter; she proved it. Dealing with it was something else. When she sensed Jack was home, she headed upstairs. Her uncle looked as he always did. Nothing seemed to faze him. Ianto was another story. He sat on the floor, halfway down the hall, while Jack assembled what looked like a giant, automatic vacuum cleaner. Ianto looked worse than he had before the home invasion which wasn't surprising; just worrisome. 

"What's with the Roomba?" 

"It's a maintenance bot." He sounded tired. She'd overheard her mom and Jack talking about nightmares. 

"I'm sorry about yesterday." 

"No." 

Anwen looked at the floor. "I scared you. A lot. I know Captain Hart did a lot of bad things." Pause. "Those men would have killed you and dad and taken me and Trefor. I was scared. Jack and mom wouldn't have gotten to us in time." Pause. "I don't know what changed him. He said a Torchwood woman saved him. I don't know. But we needed someone capable of bad things." 

"It’s not your fault." 

"Yeah, it is. I brought a man you have every right to be afraid of into your home. Then I did my best to die on you. That wasn't very nice of me." 

"I shouldn't be left alone with kids." 

Anwen smiled. "Especially one with a homicidal lunatic on speed dial." 

Ianto closed his eyes, set his head back and smiled. 

"It’s like one of those family reality shows. Secret agent mom, goofy businessman dad, weird uncles, strange kids. The Torchwood version of the Adam's family." 

"Weird?" Ianto looked at her. 

Anwen laughed. "You dress like the cover of a magazine and Jack…" 

"Jack what?" He walked over. 

"WWII called. It wants it’s clothes back." 

"Ha ha." Jack nudged her foot. "Go rescue your mom from flying blocks."

  


Jack Harkness sat on the floor where Anwen had been minutes before and set a hand on Ianto's leg. It finally occurred to him that Anwen was following Ianto around because she was worried. Which made him wonder if she was seeing something he wasn't. 

"Reality TV show analogy?" 

"The Torchwood Adam's Family." 

"Anwen uses humor to cope." 

Ianto nodded. "She's worried." 

Jack squeezed his leg. "We all are." 

"Why is any of this happening?" 

"I don't know." 

Jack's mobile buzzed. He fished it out of his pocket,and tapped it to view the message from Cory. The photograph showed someone who looked very much like him. 

Then the mobile rang. "Morning." 

"I'm at that Cardiff coffee shop with the Welsh name and the strange menu options. I'm worried about leaving. He probably figured out after he left that I photographed him for a different reason than I gave him." 

"Start from the beginning." 

Cory explained. 

"Stay in public. I will be there as soon as I can." 

"What happened?" Ianto asked. 

Jack showed him the picture of the impostor. 

"Your son?" 

"No." 

Ianto reached out and grabbed Jack's hand when he went to move. "Torchwood in the future is manipulating us and time." 

  


**Near Coffi Chwerthinllyd; Cardiff, Wale**

He watched as his father arrived. The younger man was convincing until he realized the coat complimented contradicted the negative opinion of people who wore period costumes. The compliment made sense if he wanted something from his father. The information that followed was likely true to cover the mistake. 

He checked the ridiculous pocket watch that went with the costume. Jack's response time was impressive. The young man meant something to him. Which reminded him of Jack's varied taste. When he wasn't dating psychos, he chased his office staff. 

While his presence wasn't a secret he could keep indefinitely, he'd hoped to maintain it for awhile. The situation was out of control. Percy Heitt had access to different aliens and artifacts. Someone else made changes. The psychic warned them it was possible. The question was who. 

Oliveira had ideas that would lead to more destruction, but it wasn't his intention. If Anwen hadn't figured out how to contain the creature, it would have destroyed half the city before he or Jack contained it. If Ianto was the target, and the city wasn't endangered, he would consider Oliveira guilty. Taking out Jack's family was another matter. 

"I was thinking about you when I saw the coat," Cody said as Jack sat across from him. "I should have known." 

"No." Jack set a hand over Cory's. "You kept your head. You didn't get hurt." 

"Am I safe?" 

"Hopefully. If he waited, he's seen me. No reason to hurt you to keep a secret." 

Cory exhaled sharply. "Why would anyone impersonate you? How?" 

"I don't know." 

"I was going to demand an explanation about the ex. How stupid." Cory sighed. "I'm in Wales to plan a wedding. I figure the couple will run for the hill long before its planned. Its a family thing." 

"Remember the ex I told you was dead." 

Cory met his gaze. "Yes." 

"He's not. It’s complicated." 

"I have to meet the man who could get you to commit." Cody exhaled. "Later." 

Jack withdrew his hand. "Are you heading back to London?" 

"Yes." Cory's mobile buzzed. "I need to hurry. I have a contact with a referral waiting." 

"I will drive you to your car and see you to the M4."


	17. Chapter 17

**Forest Farm, Nature Reserve; Cardiff, Wales**

**Monday, June 24, 2019**

Sunlight filtered through the trees on a beautiful afternoon. Miriam Morgans sat with her back to Thomas reviewing information on her laptop. Even sitting in a park felt odd. Moss-Probert not only gave her a horrific ability, they changed her in ways she hadn't figured out yet. 

"Are you all right?" Thomas asked. 

"Yeah. I'm still thinking about the post-disaster revision of my file." The incident report she found on the MP network said the researchers didn't understand anymore then she did. While she lied about her IQ and academic potential, neither explained her new tactical and strategic skills. The only theory provided was that the psychic enhancement which resulted in her ability affected the rest of her mind. The researchers believed her personality change was evidence of brain damage. When reassessed with updated information, the reviewer concluded it was part of the enhancement process and suggested they would be unable to control any successfully enhanced subject. 

Thomas lightly touched her upper arm with his hand and then withdrew it as if having second thoughts. 

Miriam set the laptop aside and leaned back. "What are you afraid of?" 

"I don't want to hurt you." 

"Hug me." 

He made an unhappy noise. 

"You rescued a very breakable elderly woman from a car accident. You know your strength." 

After a moment's hesitated, he slid his hands over her shoulders and hugged stiffly. 

Miriam laughed. "Are you expecting me to object?" 

"I am not used to this." 

"No crazy, bossy women in Mumbai?" 

"There are." He was amused. "They never noticed me." 

She ran her hands over his arms around her. The smooth metal over the back of his arms was always cold. His hands weren't completely covered and his skin were warm. "I notice you." 

He set his chin on top of her head. "Why do we stay? We could find a tropical island and be Robinson Crusoe." 

"Moss-Probert has to burn. I have to see it through." 

"Why?" He was finally relaxing against her. 

"MP targets people who can't, for whatever reason, stand up for themselves. I was an accident the recruiters and scientists won't repeat. I have to stop them." The reviewer concluded Thomas' rebellion was based solely on her influence and if they separated them, MP could easily control him. Which meant two things. She had to be incredibly careful not to dominate him which was difficult as it wasn't intentional and she needed to burn MP to the ground and kill anyone who could resurrect it so they couldn't either. 

"You found another facility?" 

"A fertility clinic in Manchester. Injections, harvesting, fertilization and implantation." 

"Willing?" 

"Yes and no." Miriam checked her watch. "Three hours. We need to go. We need to get there during lunch before the day staff returns." 

Thomas hesitated. "What do you want me to do?" 

"Take out doors." Miriam tapped his arms to be released. "I don't want you anywhere near the facility when Torchwood arrives." She stood. 

"I should stay with you."

  


**Moss-Probert Affiliated Research Facility; Manchester, England**

Gwen Cooper wondered about the situation. The unusual threat against the facility resulted in a quick connection between the fertility clinic and the destroyed former hospital. Miriam's intention, if she was behind the attacks on Moss-Probert, appeared to be statements directed at Torchwood. 

Jack parked the van outside the barricades. "Captain Harkness of Torchwood." Normally, the police would expect ID. Most had heard of Jack and his vintage clothes. The officer moved the barricade to let them pass. 

"Why would someone pool almond extract in the air circulation system?" Gwen sounded puzzled. 

"Cyanide smells like almonds." 

"Fake terrorism. The note on the door. The emergency services call. What is she playing at?" 

"A terrorist threat generates a lot of attention. She wanted us to see something." Jack tapped his ear piece. "Ianto, did you listen to the emergency call?" 

"Yep. It sounds like Miriam. At the hospital she said she didn't want the bystanders getting hurt." 

"A considerate terrorist," Gwen commented wryly. 

"Different motivation,” Jack explained. “Her issue appears to be unethical research. She's trying to rescue people. She doesn't expect the police or the government to shut down the research." 

"Have you checked missing person, Ianto?" 

"Yep. No match." 

Jack didn't think that meant much. "A missing, homeless adult could be ignored." 

"Did you find a connection to Moss-Probert?" Gwen asked. 

"Vaguely. They use the same service providers and suppliers. Based on your utility assessment, they use more power than similar fertility clinics in the UK. I will compile lists of equipment and listed facilities." 

"Are you heading into the office?" Jack asked. 

"Do I need to?" 

"No." He knew Ianto's anxiety was getting worse. While the building security had been breached, it was still arguably safer than commuting and Torchwood. 

Gwen waited until the connection ended."Is he okay?" 

"No." 

She wanted to ask more as she followed Jack into the building. 

It definitely smelled like almonds. She couldn't help but picture a cookie commercial. Elven terrorists. 

Jack crouched by a security door. Like MP's hospital facility, it had been smashed in. He scanned it with his wrist strap. 

"What could do this?" 

Jack stood. "An android. Or someone with full body cybernetics." 

"I don't understand the woman. She could knock the building down with this technology." 

Jack reconsidered scan data. "It’s not a weapon but a modified human. Which fits with some of the debris at the hospital." 

"Another survivor from the hospital explosion?" 

"Maybe. 

Jack Harkness stopped in the doorway to the second floor lab and stared in horror. He was looking at something he hoped he would never see again. Even with the local technology mixed with the alien, he knew what it was. And why Miriam wanted them to see it. 

"What is this?" 

"A biomechanical soldier lab." 

"Like the Borg?" 

"Yeah." Which possibly explained the man who beat down the security door. "It starts with experiments on combining adult humans with technology. This facility is for genetically designing people better able to adapt to biomechanical enhancement." 

After a building walk-through, they returned to the van. Jack hoped the connection Anwen had to John also worked for him. "John Hart." 

"Jack?" John asked a moment later. He sounded surprised. 

"We need to talk." 

John hesitated. "Why?" 

"There is a functional second gen biomech lab with technology similar to Aloxixon II in Manchester." 

"That's not surprising." 

"Who is Miriam?" Jack asked. 

"Miriam Morgans is one of Moss-Probert's test subjects. And future Torchwood. Avoid her." 

Gwen waited until he closed his wrist strap. "What are we doing with the lab?" 

Jack motioned out the window. "UNIT is handling it." 

"Will they destroy it?" 

He could only hope.


	18. Chapter 18

**Torchwood London, 2047**

Miriam Morgans knocked on the door frame to the upstairs lounge near the Williams' flats. Normally, she would have avoided an intrusion. But the situation couldn't wait. She'd discovered something that made her question her dedication to Torchwood. 

"What did I do this time?" Trefor Williams smiled, looking up from his coffee and tablet. 

The rumors varied about their relationship. Some said she was a mother figure to him after his mother died. Others whispered they had a sexual relationship. She considered the much younger man to be a friend under most circumstances. 

Miriam crossed the room and stopped in front of the table. She handed him a tablet computer with what she'd discovered. 

Puzzled, he accepted and started reading. 

"Why does Torchwood have a biomech lab?" She couldn't believe it when she first found the information. She reviewed it three times before searching for confirmation. 

Trefor looked up. "We don't." 

"Yes we do. Torchwood Nigeria has a fully operational lab. I spoke to someone in the office. They are producing biomechs with local volunteers." 

"Aman Oliveira is in charge of Torchwood Nigeria." A beat. "Anwen did not authorize a lab." 

Miriam took a moment to calm herself. "Do I need to mention what I will do to that lab, Oliveira, and anyone remotely involved, if its not dismantled?" 

"No." 

Interrupting his sister could be an experience. Trefor told Langford Talbot, her assistant manning the door that it was urgent. Reluctantly, Talbot stepped into the office. 

Anwen stepped into the hallway a few minutes later. "What is more important than the Prime Minister complaining about Torchwood?" She asked quietly. 

Trefor explained Miriam's visit and the information she provided. 

"Call Jack. We need to meet, assess and prepare a tactical plan. If Oliveira has a biomech lab, he's a dead man." 

"Yeah." Trefor already knew that but hearing her say it made it worse. He dreaded making the call. Oliveira and Jack had been friends and occasional lovers for around twenty years. 

Emergency family conferences were few and far between. Anwen opted to hold the meeting in her flat. 

Trefor Williams walked into the main room looking apprehensive. It wasn't going to be a pleasant conversation. She'd had more time to review the information Miriam provided and contact her own sources. Oliveira's list of offenses exceeded Miriam's report. 

"Where's Hart?" 

"At the stables with a bag of apples." 

Trefor laughed. 

"I told him we were having a family meeting. He took the apples without a complaint." 

"Even your pet psycho doesn't want to see Jack's reaction." 

"At least I introduced my pet psycho to the family." 

"You intimidated my last girlfriend." 

Anwen laughed. "Thalia is an ambitious twit. She thought shagging the general would improve her chances at joining Torchwood." 

"At least she wasn't one of Jack's ex's." 

"Finders-keepers." 

A knock sounded on the door moments before it opened. Jack entered looking tired. There had been an alien situation the night before. His appearance said more about it than the report. 

"What's the emergency?" Jack asked. 

Anwen hesitated as the amusement disappeared. "We received information that a Torchwood office is operating a biomech lab." 

"How solid is the information?" 

"Very. I confirmed it through sources." She motioned toward the small table. 

They sat. She couldn't help but notice how much Trefor looked like Jack. 

"It's Aman." 

"No." Jack objected. 

"We're waiting for satellite pictures. Once we have specifics, we will coordinate a response." 

Jack was adamant. "The information is wrong." 

"I wish it was." Anwen sighed. 

"Who are you sending?" 

"Morgans' team," Trefor said. 

"No!" Jack declared. "She will kill everyone." 

Anwen said. "Jack, Aman has a biomech lab. He's creating an army." 

"There is another explanation," Jack insisted. "Who found the lab? John?" 

"No," Anwen emphasized. "Miriam found the lab. John had nothing to do with it." 

Jack stood. "I will talk to Aman." 

"No." Trefor stood. "No special treatment." 

"Aman would not betray Torchwood." 

"He did." 

When Jack took a swing at Trefor, Anwen flipped own her wrist-strap. "John Hart." 

"Darling?" 

"I need your help." 

"Whose yelling?" 

"Jack and Trefor." Anwen exhaled. "Get back here. Bring a stun or tranq." 

Anwen moved away from the argument. She'd never seen Jack angry enough to swing at someone. But she'd never had to execute one of his friends. Minutes later when John entered, he aim a stun gun and hit Jack and Trefor with pellets. They both hit the floor. 

"Which one's the problem?" 

"Jack." 

John removed zip ties from his pocket. "What happened?" 

"Aman has a biomech lab." 

John swore, moving over to Jack's prone form. He was already coming around when zip-tied his hands in front of him. He restrained his feet next. 

He then moved over to Trefor and removed a vial from his pocket. 

"What is that?" Anwen asked. 

"Nanogenes. It will heal him faster." The yellow cloud left the vial and flowed over Trefor. 

Jack was groaning. "What did you do?" 

"Just a bit of bondage." 

"Anwen," Jack said. 

"No one picks on my brother but me." 

John laughed. Jack groaned. 

Trefor blinked. "Sis?" 

The nanogenes returned to the vial. 

"No bondage for you." 

Trefor glared at a John a moment. 

Anwen's mobile chimed. She checked the message. "When you're done flirting, we have a situation to discuss." 

"What happened?" Trefor asked, standing. 

"Someone tipped Aman off. He's mobilizing." 

John walked over to Anwen. "Oliveira is a zealot. Have you considered he created the lab for Torchwood?" 

Anwen looked at John, trying to wrap her mind around that concept. 

"Fighting biomechs is getting harder and harder. We've lost fifteen people this year already. In an area where people are struggling to protect their families from human problems, nevertheless alien, the volunteers would line up. Even knowing the risks." John paused a moment. "It could give them a chance to fight back against warlords and the environment." 

"You listen to him and not me." 

Anwen walked over to where Jack was still restrained. "No. I stopped listening to you when you hit my brother." Anwen paused. "What John's saying explains why. It doesn't justify it or change the outcome. We agreed. You agreed. All labs come down. All those response go down with them." 

Jack struggled. 

"What would my mother tell you to do?" 

Jack closed his eyes and laid his head back. 

"Yeah."


	19. Chapter 19

**Cardiff Police Station; Cardiff, Wales**

**Monday, June 24, 2019**

Gwen entered the police station remembering the first time she’d seen Jack there. It felt like a different life time. She’d seen her first Weevil and thought it was a costume until it killed someone. It wasn’t so much years as miles. The young patrol who’d never used a gun had come a long way. 

“Gwen Cooper with Torchwood,” she told the young woman behind the front desk. “I need to speak with the constable in charge of the Moss-Probert investigation.” “DCI Goreu Sayer.” The constable grimaced. “Have you met him?” 

“No.” 

“He’s a dinosaur.” She wrote down his name and where to find him. “He doesn’t believe women should be in law enforcement.” 

Gwen had met the type. Most were older men who had been on the force for decades. They didn’t like change. “Thanks.” 

Finding Sayer was easy enough. Multiple cliches behind a ridiculously organized desk. He was a balding, overweight man in his late fifties in a mismatch suit eating a donut. 

“DCI Sayer.” Gwen reminded herself again to watch her tone regardless. “I’m Gwen Cooper from Torchwood.” 

His expression said he didn’t care. 

“Captain Harkness needs information. Torchwood is handling the bizarre aspects, including the Sanatorium Park situation. I sent in reports. He needs then information from this side of the investigation.”

  


By the time she left with a flash drive, provided by a young, female constable who looked ready to quit, she was happy to be leaving the police station. The odious man was a lawsuit waiting to happen. 

“Mrs. Williams.” An older woman stopped her in the hallway. “I’m Dr. Floyd, the medical examiner. Do you have a few minutes?” 

“Yes.” Gwen wondered, “Is there a problem?” 

“Walk with me.” 

The doctor led her to a small, unused room in the back. She shut the door. “I know what caused the Moss-Probert deaths.” She hesitated. “When I worked for Doctors Without Borders, I found myself assisting an investigator from The Hague. He was in Kenya looking at the body of a man associated with a warlord. I don’t remember which one. A group of Russians were accused of war crimes. The investigator thought it was evidence of a new form of torture.” Dr. Floyd closed her eyes. It was definitely not a pleasant memory. “The man was a poacher. The Russian defectors run a nature preserve and only target trespassing poachers.” 

“You’re saying one of the Russians killed the MP employees.” 

“No. I’m saying Moss-Probert created a psychic capable of killing people by destroying a part of the person’s brain.” 

Gwen stared at the doctor. “You’re certain?” 

“Unfortunately.” Dr. Floyd paused. “I blame Moss-Probert for creating the psychic because of who the psychic is targeting. If I get a body in the morgue and someone obliterated his genitalia, I can reasonably assume he raped someone.”

  


**Hughes Flats**

After dropping Gwen at the main Cardiff police station, Jack considered his options. He needed to return to Torchwood. Having Ianto with him was preferred. He opted to stop by the flats and ask rather than call. 

The maintenance bot repairs were impressive. There was no evidence of damage. 

Ianto was at the new table. He set down his tablet. “I didn’t know you would be home for lunch.” 

Jack kept his expression neutral. “Gwen’s at the police station. I was heading back to Torchwood.” 

Ianto tapped the tablet. “I thought of a possible way to find the companies with undeclared labs.” 

“Sounds good.” Jack sat across from him. 

“The known companies use the same suppliers, and the known labs have green energy generators that aren’t publicly declared. I got the solar panel company’s customer list. I checked the companies’ websites. I found three. London, Edinburgh and Belfast. The Belfast office is a health and wellness clinic that treats low-income women. No declared fertility clinic.” 

“I could kiss you.” Except you’d probably react badly. 

“Promises, promises.” 

“Will come back to the hub with me?” 

Ianto looked at the table. “I told Rhys I would landscape the yard.” 

Jack held out his hand. “The yard can wait.” 

“I think of the hub and I remember what happened to it.” Ianto hesitated. “What happened to you.” 

“Remember the good times.” 

“I don’t know if I can.” 

“All right.” Jack withdrew his hand and stood. “Write up a budget for the yard.” 

Ianto nodded. “I turned the company information into a spreadsheet. I sent it already.” 

Jack stood moved toward Ianto slowly to see if he’d flinch. When he didn’t, Jack kissed him on top of the head.

  


**Torchwood Three**

Gwen entered Jack’s office. It was starting to feel normal again. He sat at his desk with his sleeves rolled up and his coat on the rack in the corner. He had both coats but was still wearing the one Ianto got him during the 456 situation. 

“I spoke with the DCI in charge of the Moss-Probert situation. As its getting out of hand, a team has been assembled. He’s an old school fetch-me-coffee-type. He wasn’t going to take me seriously. I implied I was your secretary and running your errands.” 

Jack laughed. 

“Both suspects and potential victims are deemed dangerous to police. He may call you to make sure it’s not hysterics.” 

Jack grinned. “Secretary? You could sit on my desk and take notes.” 

“Someone pointed out, as I was walking away, that he shouldn’t have insulted a woman carrying a gun.” Gwen failed to keep the stern expression. 

“The government liaison is former military. He’ll have fun with her.” 

Gwen laughed. 

The humor was short lived. “Dr. Floyd approached me at the station. She wanted to speak in person because she knows how the MP people died.” Gwen paused. “They were killed by a psychic.” 

“What’s it based on?” 

“Personal experience.” Gwen explained. 

Jack sat back, obviously thinking. “We need a doctor.” 

“Dr. Floyd is still coming to terms with what she saw in Africa.” 

Jack stood and walked over the large windows overlooking the main floor. He held out his hand. Gwen walked over and he set an arm around her shoulder. “It’s too quiet.” Jack paused. “We have been officially ordered to restaff.” 

Gwen looked up at him. “You follow orders?” 

“Depends on the orders.” 

Gwen laughed. 

“We’re not replacing anyone. We’re filling vacancies.” 

She leaned against him. “I can picture staff orientation. Announce yourself when entering the hub, if the lights are out. Otherwise you could walk in on something.”

  


**Hughes Flats**

Dealing with bureaucrats and law enforcement required patience and diplomacy. Hiring a community liaison to coordinate with the government appealed. Jack paused in the hallway outside his flat and steadied himself. Ianto was expecting him and making dinner. It was part of his anxiety. 

“Honey, I’m home,” Jack closed the door behind him. 

“That’s bad.” Ianto was at the stove making stir fry. 

Jack strode up behind him and tentatively touched him. Ianto’s post traumatic fears manifested in different ways. When Ianto didn’t react badly, he lightly kissed his neck. 

“Distract me and dinner will burn.” 

“Can I distract you after dinner?” Jack took Ianto’s hips with hands and pressed himself lightly to his back while lightly blowing on his ear. 

Ianto hit the top of his head with a pot holder. “Set the table.” 

It was progress. Jack found the dishes and set them out. He arranged them next to each other instead of across the table. Dinner was soon done. Ianto filled plates and mugs. 

“There is this store in London.” Ianto opened a linen napkin over his lap. “Home decor that mixes contemporary and early twentieth century.” 

“You want to decorate?” 

“Yep.” 

Jack hoped Ianto decided to stay. He originally agreed to help with Rhys’ jealously. Which made him feel obligated, adding to the anxiety fueled by having no control over his own life. 

Jack set a hand on Ianto’s thigh and they ate in silence for awhile. 

“I have a basic lay-out for the yard,” Ianto said, finishing his dinner. “Most of it needs to be done next spring.” 

“Good.” Jack wondered why he sounded nervous. “What’s wrong?” 

“I’m still afraid. I over think everything.” 

It was a conversation they’d had repeatedly in different ways since Ianto returned. “I love you. I’m not leaving you.”

  


Jack leaned on the counter as Ianto filled the dishwasher. The issue of control was something he had to continually remind himself about. He was used to being in the figurative driver’s seat whether at work or in his personal life. Ianto couldn’t handle it. Somehow his post traumatic response resulted in two conflicting motivations. He had to have control. While at the same time he had to be overly domestic and submissive. 

“Movie?” 

Ianto nodded. Which was expected. 

“Chose one? I have a couple calls to make.” Jack headed for his office. 

With the information Ianto pieced together, he contacted law enforcement about the locations in Belfast, London and Edinburgh. Each assured him they would keep the information as quiet as possible and see about search warrants. Belfast law enforcement already suspected something was wrong with the facility which made for a quicker response time. 

Mara Tierney, his contact in Belfast, answered on the first ring. “Jack,” she said happily, “We got them. Your information gave enough for a basic warrant. They were holding fifteen undocumented women. On the basis of immigration violations, we have two dozen warrants. We’re dismantling everything.” 

“Human-trafficking?” 

“Eventually. Right now we will hit them with every petty thing we can and build a case as we go.” 

“Good to hear. Make sure your people are careful. They have soldiers on a lot worse than steroids.” 

The humor faded. “We know. The holding facility for the women was hit an hour after we transported them there. Security had to get creative. We lost two Garda. But we know how to fight them.” The humor crept back. “We’re Irish. We can fight anything.” 

The conversation with Edinburgh went a little different. Camron Doak answered after a few rings. 

“How’d it go?” 

“Pooched.” Doak was not happy. “The search warrants were issued but not kept quiet. No one took my warnings seriously. MP tried packing before our people got there.” He hesitated. “Five dead, eight wounded. Their steroid freaks tore up the place. Three traumatized women were rescued after the wankers set the building on fire.” 

Jack hadn’t known what to say. He felt bad, but he couldn’t be responsible for others not taking his advice. 

London hadn’t acted yet. He insisted that Jenna Sukarno contact Belfast and Edinburgh for additional information. 

Ianto peaked in after the conversation with Sukarno. “Everything all right?” 

“Belfast saved fifteen women.” 

“Good.” 

Jack stood. “Did you find a movie?” 

“Yep.”


	20. Chapter 20

**Forest Farm, Nature Reserve; Cardiff, Wales**

Miriam Morgans enjoyed the simple quiet. She walked, her fingers entwined with Thomas’. The scents and sounds of nature surrounding them. It was possible to forget for awhile what had been done to them. Thomas stopped next to a large tree and pulled her to him. He was hesitant, worrying he would misjudge his strength and seriously injure her. She tilted to her head up to meet his gaze and lips as she trailed her finger tips over his face. She wanted more than kisses and nervous caresses. 

“We should find a tropical island,” Thomas said softly in the dim moonlight. “Moonlit walks along the beach…” 

He stopped mid sentence and listened. 

Miriam knew without asking. They weren’t alone. Unless another pair of trespassing lovers were in the area, Moss-Probert found them. She concentrated. They were masking themselves from her. But not for long. 

Without warning, Thomas lifted her and started running. The first explosion barely missed them. The second destroyed a tree, sending splinters in all directions. She focused as she could on their pursuers while Thomas ran. It was just a matter of getting passed how they were concealing their minds. 

Thomas tripped and shifted, trying to avoid landing on her as he fell. An explosion hit the ground knew them. Thomas covered her as the wave his them. He groaned slightly, but she could smell blood. He’d been hit. 

Enraged, she focused on whatever part of them she could find. If she could find them, she could hurt them. With concealed minds, she couldn’t kill them quickly, but she could still kill them. Screams rose into the night as she ripped their flesh. A bullet grazed her arm revealing the shooter. She targeted him and his heart exploded. Another shot missed. Another target acquired. She strode through the woods as men twice her size ran for their lives. 

When there were no more to kill, she returned to Thomas. His injures were worse than she’d hoped. She tore his hoodie into pieces and patched his wounds as best she could. All the while plotting her revenge.

  


**Near Forest Farm, Nature Reserve**

John Hart heard the police over his scanner and understood what the locals did not. Someone was dumb enough to send armed men after Miriam Morgans. He’d seen firsthand what the woman was capable of. 

She could lay waste to an army. What the police were describing suggested something set her off. The Miriam who served as the general’s right hand preferred to kill her targets quickly and mercifully. He’d heard stories of what she’d done to an alien force after they injured the general. It sounded similar. 

“Who are you?” 

“Captain John Hart, Ms. Morgans. I work for Torchwood.” 

“Why are you here?” 

“The police reports from the area. Has someone been injured?” 

Miriam moved around so he could see her. “How do you know me?” 

“I work for future Torchwood. You’re legendary.” 

She crossed her arms. The petite woman with the pixie face looked harmless in the dim light. 

“I have healing technology. If your friend can be saved, they will heal him or her.” The Chula nanogenes had saved his life more than once. Never indirectly. 

“I believe you. For now,” Miriam said. “Can your tech save a human with biomechanical augmentation?” 

Thomas was injured. John had heard of him. He’d been described as her conscience more than once. “Yeah.” According to the stories, he was killed in battle and she went on a rampage through an enemy stronghold. 

“If you know of me, you know what I’ll do if you harm him.” 

_Better than you do._

  


Thomas was a large, dark-skinned man. John guessed he came from India. He leaned against a tree. His cybernetic enhancements were blatant, evidence of early experimentation. Except the metal looked alien. 

“Evening.” He had a faint accent. Moss-Probert was known for using immigrants and the homeless for test subjects. 

“I can heal your injuries. I need to adjust the technology.” John crouched next to him and flipped open his wrist strap. 

“Torchwood?” 

“Yeah.” John removed a vial of nanogenes from his inner coat pocket. He carried mostly for personal use. 

“We’re not going back to a lab.” 

“No.” John set the glowing yellow swarm of nanogenes against his skin. “There is a safe haven in Africa for psychics with Ms. Morgans ability level. It will take some effort for her to arrange. You will be safe there.” 

“They will accept a monster?” 

“You’re not a monster.” 

Thomas held up one of his hands, the metal reflecting in the moonlight. 

“When I was an addict I attempted to kill the closest friend I’ve ever had. He made me mad.” Memories that would haunt him forever. “I lied, manipulated him and hurt people he cared about for money. People died.” The nanogenes returned to the vial. “Which one of us is the monster?”

  


**Near Hughes Flats**

John had reservations about bringing them to his house. Both because he didn’t know much about Miriam before she joined Torchwood and it was so close to where Anwen lived. There weren’t a lot of options. 

The important part was keeping Miriam out of trouble and getting her to the refuge in Africa as soon as possible. 

“This is a Torchwood safe house?” Miriam called from the bedroom. 

“Miriam,” Thomas chided quietly, looking apologetic. 

“It's a dump.” 

The Cardiff office is a sewer, John thought with a smile. Sewer chic, that’s how he’d described it the first time he’d seen it. “I wasn’t expected to have company.” 

Thomas assured, “It is something for now.” 

“When did you eat last?” John asked. 

Miriam walked back to the kitchen. “A few hours.” 

That was one less problem. “There is one bathroom. The bedroom door needs to stay open.” 

“I need a shower.” 

“The hot water makes a creaking sound before it runs out.” 

Miriam groaned, disappearing again. 

“We appreciate it.” Thomas sat at the small table while he set up the coffee pot. 

“Not an issue.” 

After the door closed and the water started, Thomas asked, “Why are you really sending us to Africa?” 

John listened for Miriam. She was in the shower. “Miriam is full of anger. Sooner or later, she will run out of Moss-Probert targets,” he explained. “The refuge in Kenya is safe. It’s run by psychics. They understand anger and coming to terms with being demi-gods.” 

“Why do you care?” 

With a sigh, John sat across from Thomas. “I made a promise.” 

“She must be an impressive woman.” 

“She was.”


	21. Chapter 21

**Hughes Flats; Cardiff, Wales**

**Tuesday, June 25, 2019**

Jack Harkness lay in bed, with one arm behind his head and the other around Ianto. He slept with his head on Jack’s shoulder. Movie night partially worked. Ianto relaxed. They kissed. Jack briefly forgot the PTSD and triggered Ianto’s fears. Resolving them required rehashing the past. 

The guilt resurfaced. Jack lightly brushed his finger tips over Ianto’s back. The memories of barging into the room with the 456 plagued him. He hadn’t considered the consequences. Ianto paid for his arrogance. With the time changes, he was still paying. 

Jack wrist-strap chimed, and he flipped it open. 

“Uncle Jack.” Anwen sounded tired, “I received a Torchwood notification. Rift activity.” 

Jack again wondered why she was getting the messages instead of him. “Thanks. Get back to sleep.” 

Ianto stirred. “You’re leaving?” 

“I don’t know. I can check with the hub from the office.” 

Ianto shifted back so Jack climb out of bed. “Do you want coffee?” 

“Go back to sleep. If I have to leave, I’ll wake you before I go.” 

The bathroom connected the bedroom to his office. He quickly booted the dedicated laptop. Logging in took longer than expected. The connection issues alone meant he had to leave. The Rift information was more worrisome. The object was half concealed. One of the Torchwood upgrades tracked it. The controlled direction and movement suggested a small ship of some kind. Jack headed back to the bedroom. He needed to call Gwen and get dressed. 

“What happened?” Ianto sounded half awake. 

“Possible small ship came through the Rift headed for Swansea.” Jack sat on the edge of the bed. “Do you want to go?” 

“No.” 

Jack leaned in and kissed Ianto’s forehead. “It will take awhile.” 

“Call when you’re coming back. I’ll make breakfast.”

  


3 AM. Gwen Cooper followed the sounds of cranky toddler through the bathroom. Anwen was already awake and grabbing a book and her toy spaceship Trefor liked. Getting him back to sleep was often time consuming. 

“I got it.” 

Gwen wondered about her life sometimes. Somehow her simple police career transformed into a complex mess that took over her life. Her husband who’d been there for her through so much over the years was straining under the weight. Anwen’s seemingly magical ability was more than he could handle. Over the years, Gwen had been forced to chose between the men in her life. She married Rhys because he loved her and was stable. She’d gone around the world on Torchwood business with Jack, often leaving on a moment’s notice. Rhys only knew a fraction of what she’d done to save lives. And to keep herself sane. Somehow her ten year-old daughter tending her baby brother without an argument was the worse part. A ten year-old should complain about sharing a room. She should make demands and be difficult at times. 

“Bed time.” Gwen felt foolish. 

“No.” Trefor’s usual reply. He was stubborn, charming and beautiful. Just like his father. 

Gwen’s cell phone rang. 

“I can handle toddler wrestling.” 

The guilt was instant. “Thanks.” 

Gwen stepped out of the room. “What happened?” 

Jack explained about the ship and Swansea. 

“Give me ten minutes. I need to see if Anwen can handle Trefor. Rhys has to work in the morning.” 

“Gwen.” Jack was amused. “Anwen woke me up. She got the Torchwood notification.”

  


**Swansea, Wales**

John Hart was remembering all the times someone said he was crazy. Miriam Morgans’ obsession with Moss-Probert was out there. He followed behind her, much like Thomas, with the small hope of keeping her from causing too much damage. 

Miriam looked and sounded so much like the older version he’d interacted with occasionally. The speed she reviewed information and made connections was impressive but not as impressive as it would be. The major difference was how she approached her obsession. Over the next thirty years she learned patience and long-term planning. 

“Where are we going?” John asked from the passenger seat. The van belonged to an elderly neighbor in the hospital. 

“A private pier. Moss-Probert is trying to relocate people from different places. The cops took down genetic research facilities in Belfast and Edinburgh. The London police waited to accumulate more information. They are evacuating all of their remaining facilities.” 

“This close to Cardiff?” 

Miriam nodded. “They have added support coming in from somewhere.” 

“Thomas is a first gen biomech.” An unusual one. “Moss-Probert has second gen biomechs. It’s not the same as the facility you escaped from.” 

“How do we fight them?” 

John wondered when he became the voice of reason. “We need equipment and a plan.” He wondered the best way to say the obvious. “Thomas doesn’t have the stomach for this. We need more than two people.” 

“Who?” 

“Torchwood.” John had no idea how he was going to make that work. “Jack has handled insane situations before.” 

“Call him. While you’re at it, tell him I want Drystan.” 

John took a moment. Asking Jack for help would be bad enough. Asking for favors was unlikely. “Who’s Drystan?” 

“The child he took from the MP facility. Werewolf boy.” 

Explaining that he burned his bridges with the current Torchwood would unlikely tohave a positive affect. 

  


“What’s wrong?” Jack Harkness asked. Gwen had said almost nothing since they left the building. 

“I asked Anwen why she contacted you instead of me.” Gwen looked away. “She said the Torchwood equipment was in your office.” 

Jack knew he was missing something. 

“Anwen is ten years old, Jack. She doesn’t complain. She doesn’t make demands.” Gwen sighed. “Trefor cries at 3 AM and she grabs a book and a toy. She doesn’t expect me to deal with it.” 

“Anwen being Anwen. Give her a few years. She’ll discover boys and girls.” 

“That would be normal.” 

Jack’s mobile rang. He answered it hands-free. “Harkness.” 

“Jack.” John sounded hesitant. “I’m with Miriam in Swansea. We have evidence that Moss-Probert is transferring test subjects off-shore tonight.” 

“Are you on speaker?” 

“I’m in a van. Miriam’s driving.” 

“How bad is the situation?” 

“MP has second gen biomechs. I don’t know how. MP has to be expecting an attack.” 

Jack considered. He still had reservations about John. “Rift activity indicates a possible small ship headed for Swansea.” 

John said, “MP is expecting unspecified back-up.” 

“We need to meet.” 

Voices could be heard in the background. “In exchange for our help, Captain Harkness, I expect Drystan to be returned. Unharmed. The young boy you removed from the facility grounds,” a woman said. 

“I have to ask why. The child is feral.” 

“Drystan was scared.” The woman said. “I’m familiar with his problems and have access to the research files. We can care for him.” 

“Can we discuss it after dealing with the aliens and Moss-Probert?” 

“Miriam doesn’t like what you said to her,” John said carefully. 

“Where are we meeting?” 

“I’ll text it.” The call ended. 

“Is John afraid?”


	22. Chapter 22

**Hughes Flats; Cardiff, Wales**

Anwen showed Trefor the book and small space ship and he settled in. Both had been gifts to her from Uncle Jack. Trefor couldn’t understand the story, but he’d play with the ship and listen. She didn’t mind sitting next to his bed and reading. 

While her mother quickly dressed for work, she started the familiar story. Her father had explained that small children liked repetition, it was somehow soothing. She had no idea why, but it calmed her brother. 

The front door opened as their mother left. Anwen hoped her mum and Uncle Jack would be all right and wondered if she needed to check on Ianto. Cranky toddlers she understood. Adults traumatized by returning from the dead were another story. 

Trefor stopped mimicking the ship flying to eye her. She she started reading again. Friends at school whined about their siblings. Reading stories and playing with blocks were too much to ask. Anwen didn’t mind. She didn’t care about fashion, wearing make-up or whatever pretty boy singer had their attention that week. She wouldn’t tell them that. They’d be horrified, and she’d probably lose friends. Reading the description of the intrepid hero made her think of Jack. He was part cowboy and part con man. A hero who took on aliens and saved the day. A James Bond for kids. He had a special ship that could fly faster than the speed of light. 

A different, unfamiliar image came to mind as she read. Confused, she paused. Trefor took offense and started yelling. Even with the noise, it didn’t take long to realize she was sensing the Rift. The ship she was seeing was preparing to exit over Cardiff. 

“Dad,” Anwen yelled. 

She moved and half fell off the bed. “No, no, no.” The energy around the ship was wrong. Very wrong. 

“What is this?” Rhys stepped into the bedroom. 

Kneeling on the floor, Anwen focused on the familiar Rift energy. She could picture it in her mind. The beautiful ribbon in space only she could see. As she had with the negative creature, she searched for something different. The ship had time energy wrapped around it like Uncle Jack and John. She thought of the toy space ship and searched for any indication of an engine. 

“Anwen?” Her father’s voice sounded distant. 

When she found it, she channeled Rift energy into it. She’d watched a show on airplanes. Hitting a bird could bring down a plane as it disrupted the system. She felt the ship’s energy change. It was struggling to continue through the Rift. 

“Ianto,” her dad said, “Get down here. Something’s wrong Anwen. I think its the Rift.” 

She wanted the aliens to back up or turn around, but she knew, somehow she knew they wouldn’t. They fought the Rift. They fought her. She couldn’t let them through. Tears slid down her cheeks as the ship exploded. She saw her dad as Ianto rushing into the room. It was too much. “I killed them all.” The room faded.

  


**Near (private pier); Swansea, Wales**

The Rift alarm sounded as John Hart climbed out of the van. He flipped open his wrist-strap and remote-accessed Torchwood for details. He listened to it twice. The information wasn’t good. He had no idea how they would deal with an alien ship. 

He reached for his phone to call Jack, but he saw the Torchwood van approaching. 

“Did you get the notification?” John walked over to Jack. 

Jack looked puzzled. 

“Do you have access to Torchwood’s computer?” John asked. “A ship is trying to come through the Rift.” 

Jack retrieved a laptop from his van and booted it on the bonnet. “It was a ship.” 

John walked with his hands out in front of him. “Was?” 

“The ship’s engine’s exploded trying to enter the atmosphere.” 

That took John a moment. Anwen had told him she could manipulate the Rift to prevent things from exiting. He assumed she meant small things. “Who’s with Anwen?”

  


Ianto Jones had gun in hand when he entered the Williams’ flat. He locked the door behind him, having no idea what to expect. Rhys said something was wrong with Anwen. He arrived in her room in time to watch her pass out muttering about killing someone. He holstered his gun and fished his mobile out of his pocket. 

“She needs a cold shower now.” 

Rhys looked at him a moment before scooping Anwen off the floor and heading for the bathroom. 

“Is Anwen all right?” Jack asked immediately. 

“No.” Ianto explained. 

“Ianto,” John said, “If you open her wrist-strap, I can do a remote medical scan.” 

“Jack?” 

“Do it.”

  


John Hart read the readings twice and didn’t like it. “She’s in a coma.” 

He needed to think. Anwen knew how her ability worked. She returned the hub and the wrist-straps. She planned for everything. He didn’t understand the secrets, but she had her reasons. Which meant the answer had to be at Torchwood Three. Returning the hub had been time consuming. There had to be more to it then sentimental value. John remote-accessed Torchwood and the medical database, and then remote-accessed Anwen’s wrist-strap again. The response was what he already knew, but included what needed to be done. 

“Have Ianto take her to Torchwood. The infirmary will provide instructions. The improvements include nanogenes.” 

“How does he have hub access, Jack?” Gwen demanded. 

Jack relayed instructions. “Text me when you arrive.” 

Ianto hesitated. “I will.”


	23. Chapter 23

**Near (private pier); Swansea, Wales**

Miriam Morgans had no idea what the problem was, but she suspected it was bad. While John coordinated with Captain Harkness, she accessed Moss-Probert’s system. The information was bizarre. Something happened to their back-up. The few people discussing it weren’t willing to explain what happened over the system. Which meant MP kept secrets from their own high level people. They did, however, reveal their victims had already been transported to the pier. 

After a quick smile to Thomas, she walked over to the Torchwood group carrying her laptop. “MP is discussing whether or not they need to cancel the transfer.” She explained what she knew about the canceled back-up. “We need to go now.” 

When the very upset woman pulled Harkness away from the van, Miriam turned to John. “What happened?” 

“Her daughter is sick.” 

Miriam wondered what that had to do with John. From what little she’d seen of their interaction, the woman hated him. It wasn’t a failed relationship, or at least she doubted it. “Thomas can sit with her. We need to go.” 

“Give Jack a minute.” 

Jack walked back. “What’s the situation?” 

Miriam explained. 

“How many research subjects? How many defending them?” 

“According to this, there are eight transport vehicles. The number of prisoners per vehicle will vary by how they’re restrained. After I escaped, MP changed their policy on psychics. They are transported in stasis units.” Miriam took a moment. “They came from different directions and avoided an obvious procession.” She tapped the keyboard. “Each known vehicle has two people. Security in the back varies by the type of research and modification. Stasis pods have no additional security. The vehicle transporting individuals like Drystan have one security person per two restrained. Additional security was implied. I can only estimate there is a minimum of twenty-four security.” 

“How many biomechs?” 

“I have no idea.” 

Jack considered. “What are they expected you to do?” 

“Frontal assault. Arrogant, no thought.” 

Jack nodded. “John, can you disrupt their communications?” 

“Yeah. Mobiles, computers. I can even disrupt their computerized vehicles. Everything but radios.” 

“Gwen get the megaphone and field glasses.” 

“Miriam, with that many security, we need to separate, confuse and take them down quietly. They’re expecting arrogance. Making demands through a megaphone at superior troops is arrogant. But keeps you out of range.” 

She smiled. 

“John and I will take out the hostiles.” He looked at John. “Quietly.” John nodded. 

“Gwen and Thomas will free the prisoners quietly. No tearing off doors.” 

Jack closed his laptop. “John and I will recon first. We need to plan, stay focused and most important we need to stay calm.”

  


Jack Harkness waited until they were away from the group to quietly ask. “How dangerous is she?” 

“Set her off and she can level an army. But she doesn’t have the experience or control to handle it yet.” 

“You sounded apprehensive on the phone.” 

“Miriam is the most dangerous person I’ve ever met. She’s a genius on top of being able to kill people psychically. But right now she’s obsessed with MP.” John hesitated. “When I met future her, she was hunting anything associated with MP with a fervor. But she had it under control.” 

“Is there anyone she listens to?” 

“The general.” John shook his head. “He’s in diapers right now.” 

Jack had a thought. He stopped and pulled up the photograph Cory took of the impostor. “Do you know who this is?” 

“Yeah. General Trefor Williams,” John said. “He would know how to deal with her. Despite their age difference, they were friends.” 

“Did you know he was here?” 

“No.” John hesitated. “We need to discuss him after this. There is a lot you need to know.”

  


The off-shore transport was flashing a green light. A small boat headed toward shore with the same light. A small, Asian man stepped out of the boat. He walked up the pier and onto the sparse grass barely visible in the dim light. 

“Captain Harkness,” the elderly man said with amusement, his Chinese accent faint. “It has been many years.” 

Jack approached, wondering what about the man was familiar. 

“Bobby Zhao.” He smiled. “My mother told you her name was Mai. It was sixty years ago. We were hiding in the back of a grocery store in London. You were looking for an alien.” He chuckled. “My mother’s English was so bad, she thought you were looking for a woman.” 

“I’m sorry. I don’t remember.” 

“The creature looked like something from a horror movie. Tentacles and oozing blue slime.” Jack nodded. “I remember that. We wound up in the basement where the owner was hiding illegal animals. A tiger, pandas and a crying alien.” 

“Mother told the store owner that you were a friend and that if he reneged on their agreement, you would come back.” That amused Zhao. 

“Why are you here?” 

“I am a ferryman for a refuge in Kenya. They offer safe haven to psychics, oddities and freaks of nature. To prevent the world from exploiting them.” Zhao paused. “Ms. Morgans contacted the refuge seeking shelter. She explained that she needed a home for more than herself.” 

John stepped forward. “It’s an honor.” He bowed slightly. “We have another emergency to attend.” 

Zhao nodded. “Understood. I will make arrangements for young Drystan at a later date.” He smiled. “Captain Hart, Ms. Williams will have a full recovery.” 

“Thank you.”

  


“How did he know you?” Jack Harkness asked. 

“I don’t know.” John shook his head. “I don’t want to know.” 

“What?” 

“Zhao, the ferryman. He’s nicknamed after Charon from Greek mythology. He ferries the souls to the underworld.” John sighed. “The refuge sent him in case he needed to wade through bodies to reach Miriam.”


	24. Chapter 24

**Torchwood Three; Cardiff, Wales**

Ianto Jones carefully set Anwen on one of the new examine cots in the infirmary. He had no idea how to activate the medical equipment. Unsure of what else to try, he opened her wrist-strap. The computer response was immediate. “Stand back. Medical emergency. Releasing nanogenes.” 

Rhys entered with Trefor as a yellow cloud emerged from a box at the head of the cot and spread over Anwen. Ianto moved around the cot to keep Rhys from trying to interfere. They stood in silence, watching and waiting. 

After the cloud returned to its box, the computer announced, “Patient is sleeping. Do not disturb.” 

“Explain this to me,” Rhys said. 

“I can’t.” 

Rhys settled into a chair in one corner with Trefor on his lap. 

Ianto headed for Jack’s office. All he could think about was the day the hub exploded with Jack inside. The government betrayed them because of the 456. Jack dragged him to the lift and made him leave. _I will come back. I always do._ The pain and fear returned with a vengeance. He stopped and leaned against the wall. 

Telling himself repeatedly it was over lessened the memories’ grip. After a few deep breaths, he started moving again. It felt like struggling against quicksand. The past held on and wouldn’t let go. Jack told him to remember the good times, and he tried. Torchwood was Jack’s home, and they’d spent many nights together as friends and lovers. The pterodactyl perched overheard, its talons on the metal railing. Ianto couldn’t help but smile. Catching the creature had resulted in a connection between them, and earned him the job he’d been previously unable to talk Jack into. 

Ianto stopped again as the memories changed. Thinking about the flying dinosaur made him think of what the creature ate. It had a fondness for barbecue sauce. Which lead to memories of Lisa and the day what was left of her went on a rampage. The memories were determined. 

When he finally freed himself, he continued to Jack’s office. There was work that needed to be done, but Ianto couldn’t handle it. Simply walking to the office took what willpower he could manage. Resigned, he sat behind Jack’s desk. When the memories gave him another moment’s peace, he rested his hands on his arms and fell into a fitful sleep.

  


Jack Harkness lead Gwen into Torchwood through the garage. They found Rhys and Trefor sleeping in a chair near Anwen in the infirmary. He hadn’t given the infirmary much of a review when he walked through. Arrogance, he realized. He didn’t consider his team might need it. The upgrades were impressive. Centuries beyond 2049. 

He reviewed Anwen’s condition. Controlling the Rift had a serious affect on her brain. Over time, he wondered how much she adapted to it. The system had obviously been designed with her in mind. From the looks of the records, she’d written much of the information herself from personal experience. There was a lot it didn’t say. He couldn’t blame her for keeping secrets. The job did that to a person. John stepped into the infirmary with his hands in front of him. “She needs nutrient packs.” 

“Why do you care?” Gwen demanded, waking Rhys and Trefor. She un-holstered her weapon. 

“Part of the job.” 

“Gwen.” Rhys sounded half awake. “He saved her life. Twice now.” 

“He can’t be trusted.” “Take Rhys and Trefor to the conference room,” Jack said. 

She reluctantly agreed, after a moment. 

“You can’t stay.” 

John nodded, “I know.” 

“How did you get in?” 

John looked up from the monitor. “I’m in the system. Anwen, adult Anwen, said you wouldn’t be able to remove it.” John held up a hand. “I'm not here to cause trouble.” 

“This isn’t about money.” 

“No.” John opened his wrist-strap and made corrections. 

“What do you want?” 

John turned to look at him with haunted eyes. “I want to go home to my flat in London. I want to con the housekeeper into another pot roast. I can’t. My home and my life and everything I care about is gone.” He closed his wrist-strap. “You have your hub, Ianto and whatever bizarre relationship you have with Gwen.” He headed for the infirmary door. “Be happy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continued in Patron Saint of Debauchery


End file.
